THE LUCK OF 
THIRTEEN 





Gass ^ '^^^ 
Book_ 






THE LUCK OF THIRTEEN 




Jo AT THE Machine Gun. 



THE 
LUCK OF THIRTEEN 

WANDERINGS AND FLIGHT THROUGH 
MONTENEGRO AND SERBIA 



BY 

MR. AND MRS. JAN GORDON 



WITH PHOTOGRAPHS AND A MAP 
TAIL PIECES BY CORA J. GORDON 
COLOUR PLATES BY JAN GORDON 



LONDON 

SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE 

1916 

[/Sll rights reser-vedl 






PRINTED BY 

WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED 

LONDON AND BECCLES 






IIoAW] 



CONTENTS 



CHAFIBB FAGR 

Introduction 1 

II. NisH AND Salonika 10 

III. Off to Montenegro 20 

IV. Across the Frontier 31 

V. The Montenegrin Front on the Drina . , 47 

VI. Northern Montenegro 66 

VII. To Cettinjb 85 

VIII. The Lake op Scutari 99 

IX. Scutari 105 

X. The Highway of Montenegro .... 122 

XI. Ipbk, Dechani and a Harem .... 145 

XII. The Highway of Montenegro — II. . . . l69 

XIII. UsKUB 182 

XIV. Mainly Eetrospectivb 198 

XV. Some Pages from Mr. Gordon's Diary . . 213 

XVI. Last Days at Vrntze 227 

XVII. Kralievo 244 

XVIII. The Flight of Serbia 263 

XIX. Novi Bazar 284 

XX. The Unknown Road 299 



VI 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI. The Flba-Pit ........ 315 

XXII. Andeibvitza to Pod 328 

XXIII. Into Albania 341 

XXrV. "One moeb Eibber to cross" .... 359 

Index 377 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

COLOUEED PLATES 

FACING PAOB . 

Jo at the Machine Gun Frontispiece 

The Ipek Pass in Winter 140 

Estreating Ammunition Train 276 

Albanian Mule-drivers Camping 354 

HALF-TONE PLATES 

Out-patients 4 

Shoeing Bullocks 4 

Peasant Women in Gala Costiune, Nish 20" 

Serb Convalescents at Uzhitze 28 - 

Serb and Montenegrin Ofi&cers on the Drina .... 58 

A Concealed Gun Emplacement on the Drina . . . 58 " 

Peasant Women of the Mountains 76 

A Village of North Montenegro 76" 

Jo and Mr. Simia in the Scutari Bazaar 110 " 

Christian Women hiding from the Photographer . . . 112 

Scutari — Bazaar and Old Venetian Fortress .... 112 ■ 

Disembarkation of a Turkish Bride 114 

Governor Petrovitch and his Daughter in their State Barge . 114 ' 

In the Bazaar of Ipek 162 

Street Coffee Seller in Ipek 162- 



viii LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS 

FACIMO PASS 

A Wine Market in Uskub 184 -^ 

Big Gun passing through Krusevatz 194 ^ 

In-patients 202 

Broken Aeroplane in the Arsenal at Krag .... 220-^ 

Where the '« Plane "fell 220 / 

House near the Arsenal damaged by Bombs .... 220 / 

Peasant Women leaving their Village 260 / 

Serb Family by the Roadside 260 

The FUght of Serbia . . . ... . .266 

Unloading the Benedetto, San Giovanni di Medua . . . 364 ■^ 

Eoute Map of the Authors' Wanderings . . .At end of text 



THE LUCK OF THIRTEEN 

INTRODUCTION 

It is curious to follow anything right back to its 
inceptiouj and to discover from what extraordinary- 
causes results are due. It is strange, for instance, 
to find that the luck of the thirteen began right back 
at the time when Jan, motoring back from Uzhitze 
down the valley of the Morava, coming fastish 
round a corner, plumped right up to the axle in 
a slough of chnging wet sandy mud. The car 
almost shrugged its shoulders as it settled down, 
and would have said, if cars could speak, " Well, 
what are you going to do about that, eh ? " It 
was about the 264th mud hole in which Jan's 
motor had stuck, and we sat down to wait for 
the inevitable bullocks. But it was a Sunday 
and bullocks were few; the wait became 
tedious, and in the intervals of thought which 
alternated with the intervals of exasperation, 
Jan reahzed that he needed a hohday. 

To be expHcit. Jan was acting as engineer to 
Dr. Berry's Serbian Mission from the Royal Free 

B 



2 INTKODUCTION 

Hospital : — Jan Gordon, and Jo is his wife, Cora 
Josephine Gordon, artist, and V.A.D. 

We had a six months of work behind us. We 
had seen the typhus, and had dodged the dreaded 
louse who carries the infection, we had seen the 
typhus dwindle and die with the onrush of summer. 
We had helped to clean and prepare six hospitals 
at Vrntze or Vrnjatchka Banja — whichever you 
prefer. We had helped Mr. Berry, the great 
surgeon, to ventilate his hospitals by smashing the 
windows— one had been a child again for a moment. 
Jo had learned Serbian and was assisting Dr. Helen 
Boyle, the Brighton mind speciahst, to run a large 
and flourishing out-patient department to which 
tuberculosis and diphtheria — two scourges of Serbia 
— came in their shoals. We had endeavoured to 
ward off typhoid by initiating a sort of sanitary 
vigilance committee, having first sacked the chief 
of poHce : we had laid drains, which the chief 
Serbian engineer said he would pull up as soon as 
we had gone away. We had helped in the plans 
of a very necessary slaughter-house, which Mr. 
Berry was going to present to the town. There 
was an excuse for Jan's desire. The English 
papers had been howhng about the typhus months 
after the disease had been chased out by 
Enghsh, French, and American doctors, who had 
disinfected the country till it reeked of formahn 



JO 3 

and sulphur ; shoals of devoted EngHshwomen were 
still pouring over, generously ready to risk their 
lives in a danger which no longer existed. Our 
own unit, which had dwindled to a comfortable — 
almost a family — number, with Mr. Berry as father, 
had been suddenly enlarged by an addition of ten. 
These ten compHcated things, they all naturally 
wanted work, and we had cornered all the jobs. 

So, after the fatigues of February, March, and 
April, and the heat of June, Jan quite decided on 
that Uzhitze mud patch that a hohday would do 
little harm to himself, and good to everybody else. 
Then, however, came the problem of Jo. Jo is a 
sociaHstic sort of a person with conservative instincts. 
She has the feminine abihty to get her wheels on 
a rail and run comfortably along till Jan appears 
like a big railway accident and throws the scenery 
about; but once the resolution accomphshed she 
pursues the idea with a determination and ferocity 
which leaves Jan far in the background. 

Jo had her out-patient department. Every 
morning, wet or fine, crowds of picturesque 
peasants would gather about the Httle side door 
of our hospital, women in blazing coloured hand- 
woven skirts, like Joseph's coat, children in un- 
imaginable rags, but with the inevitable belt tightly 
bound about their little stomachs, men covered 
with tuberculous sores and so forth, on some days 



4 INTRODUCTION 

as many as a hundred. Jo, having finished 
breakfast, had then to assume a commanding 
air, and to stamp down the steps into the crowd, 
sort out the probable diphtheria cases — this by long 
practice, — forbid anybody to approach them under 
pain of instant disease, get the others into a vague 
theatre queue, which they never kept, and then 
run back into the office to assist the doctor and to 
translate. All this, repeated daily, was highly 
interesting of course, and so when Jan suggested 
the tour she '' didn't want to do it." 

But authority was on Jan's side. Jo had had 
a mild accident : a diphtheria patient fled to avoid 
being doctored, they often did, and Jo had chased 
after her ; she tripped, fell, drove her teeth through 
her lower lip, and for a moment was stunned. 
When they caught the patient they found that it 
was the wrong person- — but that is beside the subject. 
Dr. Boyle thought that Jo had had a mild con- 
cussion and threw her weight at Jan's side. Dr. 
Berry was quite agreeable, and gave us a commis- 
sion to go to Salonika to start with and find a disin- 
fector which had gone astray. Another interpreter 
was found, so Jo took leave of her out-patients. 

;{: H: 4: ^ ^ 

In Serbia it was necessary to get permission to 
move. Jan went to the major for the papers. 
There were crowds of people on the major's steps. 



FAKEWELL 5 

and Jan learned that all the peasants and loafers 
had been called in to certify, so that nobody should 
avoid their mihtary service. Later we parted, 
taking two knapsacks. Dr. Boyle and Miss Dicken- 
son were very generous, giving us large supplies 
of chocolate, Brand's essence, and corned beef for 
our travels, and we had two boxes of " compressed 
luncheons," black horrible- looking gluey tabloids 
which claim to be soup, fish, meat, vegetables and 
pudding in one swallow. 

The Austrian prisoners bade us a sad farewell, 
but many friends accompanied us to the station, 
and the rotund major and his rounder wife did us 
the Hke honour. Our major was a queer mixture: 
he was jolly because he was fat, and he was stern 
because he had a beaky nose, and in any inter- 
view one had first to ascertain whether the stomach 
or the nose held the upper hand, so to speak. 
With the wife one was always sure — she had a snub 
nose. On this occasion the major furiously boxed 
the Austrian prisoner coachman's ears, telHng us 
that he was the best he had ever had. The un- 
fortunate driver was a picture of rueful pleasure. 
The two plump dears stood waving four plump 
hands till we had rumbled round the corner of the 
landscape. 

In the train to Nish it was intensely hot. We 
had sixteen or seventeen fellow-passengers in our 



6 INTRODUCTION 

third-class wooden-seated carriage- — all the firsts 
had been removed, because they could not be 
disinfected — and the windows, with the exception 
of two, had been screwed tightly down. Every time 
we stood up to look at the landscape somebody 
sHpped into our seat, and we were continually 
sitting down into unexpected laps. Expostulations, 
apologies, and so on. Somebody had gnawed a 
piece from one of the wheels, and we lurched 
through the scenery with a banging metalhc 
clangour which made conversation difficult, in 
spite of which Jo astonished the natives by her 
colloquial and fluent Serbian. We had an enormous 
director of a sanitary department and a plump 
wife, evidently risen, but fat people rise in Serbia 
automatically hke balloons. We had three meagre 
old gentlemen, one unshaven for a week, one 
whiskered since twenty years with Piccadilly 
weepers like a stage butler; some ultra fashion- 
able girls and men ; and a dear old dumb woman 
wearing three belts, who had been a former 
outpatient ; and several sticky families of children. 

The old gentlemen took a huge interest in Jo. 
They drew her out in Serbian, and at every sentence 
turned each to the other and elevated their hands, 
ejaculating *' kako ! " (how!) in varying terms of 
admiration and flattery. 

The American has not yet ousted the Turk 



EN ROUTE 7 

from Serbia, and the bite from our wheel banged 
off the revolutions of our sedate passing. Trster- 
nik's church — modern but good taste — gleamed 
like a jewel in the sun against the dark hills. On 
either hand were maize fields with stalks as tall 
as a man, their feathery tops veihng the intense 
green of the herbage with a film, russet Hke cobwebs 
spun in the setting sun. There were plum orchards 
— ^for the manufacture of plum brandy — so thick 
with fruit that there was more purple than green 
in the branches, and between the trunks showed 
square white ruddy-roofed hovels with great squat 
tile-decked chimneys. Some of the houses were 
painted with decorations of bright colours, vases of 
flowers or soldiers, and on one was a detachment of 
crudely drawn horsemen, dark on the white walls, 
meant to represent the heroes of old Serbian poetry. 

To Krusevatz the valley broadened, and the 
sinking sun tinted the widening maize-tops till the 
fields were great squares of gold. We had no 
lights in the train, and presently dusk closed down, 
seeming to shut each up within his or her own mind. 
The hills grew very dark and distant, and on the 
faint rising mist the trees seemed to stand about 
with their hands in their pockets Hke vegetable 
Charhe Chaphns. 

A junction, and a rush for tables at the Httle 
out-of-door restaurant. In the country from which 



8 INTRODUCTION 

we have just come all seemed peacCj but here in 
truth was war. Passing shadowy in the faint 
Hghts were soldiers; soldiers crouched in heaps in 
the dark corners of the station; yet more soldiers 
and soldiers again huddled in great square box 
trucks or open waggons waiting patiently for the 
train which was four or five hours late. There 
were women with them, wives or sisters or 
daughters, with great heavy knapsacks and stoHd 
unexpressive faces. 

While we were dreaming of this romance of war, 
and of the coming romance of our own tour, a 
Httle man dumped himself at our table, explained 
that he had a pain in his kidneys, and started an 
interminable story about his wife and a dog. He 
was Jan's devoted admirer, and declared that Jan 
had performed a successful operation upon him, 
though Jan is no surgeon, and had never set eyes 
upon the man before. 

Georgevitch rescued us. Georgevitch was fat, 
tall, young and genial, and was mihtary storekeeper 
at Vmtze. He was an ideal storekeeper and looked 
the part, but he had been a comitaj. He had 
roamed the country with belts full of bombs and 
holsters full of pistols, he and 189 others, with 
two loaves of bread per man and then " Ever 
Forwards." Of the 189 others only 22 were 
left, and one was a patient at our hospital where 



STALLACH 9 

we called him the " VeHka Dete " or " big child," 
because of his sensibility. With Georgevitch was 
a dark woman with keen sparkhng eyes. Alone, 
this woman had run the typhus barracks in Vmtze 
until the arrival of the Enghsh missions. She was 
a Montenegrin ; no Serbian woman could be found 
courageous enough to undertake the task. After 
struggling all the winter, she was taken ill about a 
fortnight after the arrival of the Enghsh. The 
Red Cross Mission took care of her and she recovered. 
We left our bore still talking about his wife and 
the dog, and fled to their table, where we chatted 
till our train arrived. We found a coupe — a carriage 
with only one long seat — the exigencies of which 
compelled Jan to He all night with Jo's boots on 
his face, and we so slept as well as we were able. 




CHAPTER II 

NISH AND SALONIKA 

To our dismay a rare thing happened — our train 
was punctual, and we arrived in Nish at four 
o'clock. It was cold and misty. The station was 
desolate and the town asleep. Around us in the 
courtyard ragged soldiers were lying with their 
heads pillowed on brightly striped bags. A nice 
old woman who had asked Jo how old she was, 
what relation Jan was to her, whether they had 
children, and where she had learnt Serbian, sud- 
denly lost all her interest in us and hurried off with 
voluble friends whose enormous plaits around 
their flat red caps betokened the respectable 
middle-class women. 

Piccadilly weepers vanished and a depressed 
little quartet was left on the platform — our two 
selves, a lean schoolmaster, and an egg-shaped 
man who never spoke a word. We found a clerk 
sitting in an office. He said we could not leave our 
bags in his room, but as we made him own that we 
could not put them anywhere else he looked the 
other way while we dropped them in the corner. 

In the faint mist of the early morning the great 

10 



NISH 11 

overgrown village of one-storied houses seemed like 
a real town buried up to its attics in fog. We 
found a cafe which was shut, and sat waiting on 
green chairs outside. Around us old men were 
talking of the news in the papers. They said that 
Bulgaria was making territorial demands, and as 
the Balkan governments covet land above all 
things they felt pessimistic as to whether Serbia 
would concede anything, and said, shaking their 
heads, " It will be another Belgium." 

We celebrated the opening of the cafe by order- 
ing five Turkish coffees each, and the schoolmaster 
and we alternately stood treat. Jo loaded up with 
aspirin to deaden a toothache which was worrying 
her. 

We spent a cynical morning in interviews with 
people who were supposed to know about missing 
luggage. Both they and we were aware that the 
first hospital which got a wandering packing-case 
froze on to it, and if inconvenient people came to 
hunt for their property the dismayed and guilty 
ones hurriedly painted the case, saying to each 
other, *' After all it's in a good cause, and it's 
better than if it were stolen." 

Then we went to see the powers who can say 
*' no " to those who want to do pleasant things, and 
were handed an amendment to a plea for a tour 
round Serbia, including the front, which we had 



12 NISH AND SALONIKA 

sent to them and which had been pigeon-holed 
for a month. 

" But we don't want to see a lot of monasteries/* 
said Jan, as he gazed at a Httle circle drawn round 
the over-visited part of Serbia. The powers were 
adamant and seemed to think they had done very 
well for us. We went away sadly, for monasteries 
had not been the idea at all. 

Half an hour later we were pursuing an entirely 
different object. We had discovered that Sir 
Ralph Paget was housing about £1000 worth 
of stores destined for Dr. Clemow's hospital — which 
was in Montenegro — and which needed an escort. 
He was somewhat puzzled at our altruistic anxiety 
to take them ofi his hands, but was much relieved 
at the thought that he could get rid of them. 

We hurried to the station, rescued our knap- 
sacks under the nose of a new official who looked 
very much surprised, and boarded the Enghsh rest 
house near by. Enghsh people were sitting in 
deck chairs outside the papier-mache house which 
stood surrounded by a couple of tents and a 
wooden kitchen in a field. Austrian prisoners 
were preparing lunch, and we were introduced to 
Seemitch the dog. 

Though young, Seemitch was fat and exhibited 
signs of a much-varied ancestry. The original 
Seemitch, an important Serb with long gold teeth. 



NISH 13 

was very indignant that a dog, and such a dog, 
should be called after him, so Sir Ralph arranged 
that of the two other puppies one should be called 
after him and the other after Mr. Hardinge his secre- 
tary. Thus the man Seemitch's dignity was restored. 

At the station, to our great joy, we met two 
American doctors from Zaichar. One we had 
mourned for dead and were astonished to see him, 
shadow-Kke, stiff-kneed, and sitting uncomfort- 
ably on a chair in the middle of the platform. 
Months before he had pricked himself with a 
needle while operating on a gangrenous case, and 
had since lain unconscious with blood-poisoning. 

While we were cheering over his recovery, a 
little Frenchman slipped into our reserved com- 
partment, which was only a coupe, and had seized 
the window seat. Jan found him lubricating his 
mouth, already full of dinner, with wine from a 
bottle. As he showed no signs of seeing reason from 
the male, Jo tried feminine indignation. *' That 
seat is mine," she snapped to his back-tilted head. 

" Good. I exact nothing," he said, wiping 
his moustache upwards. She suggested that if 
any exacting was to be done she possessed the 
exclusive rights. 

" Quel pays," he answered. Jo thought he 
was casting aspersions on England and on her as 
the nearest representative, and the air became 



M NISH AND SALONIKA 

distinctly peppery. The Frenchman hurriedly ex- 
plained that he was alluding to Serbia, so they 
buried the hatchet and became acquaintances. 

He :]: 4: :i: ^ 

Uskub, or Skoplje, and one hour to wait. All 
about the great plains the mountains were just 
growing ruddy with the dawn, and we gulped 
boihng cofEee at the station restaurant. 

One of the American doctors seemed restless. 
Some one had told him it was advisable to keep 
an eye on the luggage. They began to shunt the 
train, and soon he was stumbling about the sidings 
in a resolute attempt not to lose sight of the 
luggage van. We sympathetically wished him 
good luck and walked past into the Turkish quarter, 
adopted by two dogs which followed us all the way. 
We had a hurried ghmpse of queer-shaped, many- 
coloured houses, trousered women, and a general 
Turkishness. 

We returned to find our American friend 
furious, full of the superior methods of luggage 
registration in the States. 

We had beer with him at the frontier, deHcious 
cool stuff with a molHfying influence. He told 
us he held the record for one month's hernia 
operations in Serbia. We were later to meet his 
rival, a Canadian doctor, in Montenegro. 

Locked in the train, we awaited the medical 



SALONIKA 15 

examination, and sat feeling self-consciously- 
healthy. At last the Greek doctor opened the 
door, glanced at a knapsack, and vanished. We 
were certified healthy. 

It was a beautiful dark blue night when we 
arrived at Salonika. Crowds of people were dining 
at Httle tables which filled the streets off the quay, 
in spite of the awful smells which came up from the 
harbour. 

It is impossible to sleep late in Salonika. Soon 
after dawn children possess the town — ^bootblacks, 
paper-sellers, perambulating drapers' shops ; all 
children crying their wares noisily. The only 
commodity that the children don't peddle is under- 
taken by mules laden with glass fronted cases hang- 
ing on each side and which are filled with meat. 

We breakfasted in the street, revelhng in the 
early morning and shooing away the children, 
who never gave us a moment's grace. In self- 
defence we had our boots blacked, for the ambulating 
bootblack molests no longer the owner of a well- 
pohshed pair of boots. It is queer to walk about 
in a town where one- third of the population is only 
pecuniarily interested in the momentary appearance 
of feet and never look at a face, like the man 
with the muckrake with eyes glued on fife as it 
is led two inches from the ground. 

When we had finished searching for disinfectors 



16 NISH AND SALONIKA 

and dentists we wandered up the hill through the 
romantic streets. Jan sketched busily, but tooth- 
ache had rather sapped Jo's industry, and she 
generally found some large stone to sit on, whence 
to contemplate. 

An old woman's face, peering round the door- 
way, discovered her sitting on the doorstep, a 
Greek dustman gazing stupidly at her. 

In two minutes they were talking hard. The 
old woman was a Bulgarian, but they were able 
to understand each other. What Jo told the old 
woman was translated to the dustman, and when 
Jan came up they were introduced each to the 
other, the dustman with his broom bowing to the 
ground hke some old-time court usher. 

Once a Greek woman offered a chair to Jo. She 
was much embarrassed, as the only Greek words 
she had picked up were " How much ? " and " Yet 
another ; " and as both seemed unsuitable she tried 
to put her gratitude into the width of her smile. 

We scrambled on ever afterwards through 
streets which were more hke chff chmbs than 
roads. The sun grew red till all Salonika lay at 
our feet a maze of magenta shadow. We sat 
down in an old Turkish cemetery, where we could 
watch the old wall sliding down to plains of gold, 
where, falling into ruins, it lent its degraded stones 
for the construction of Turkish hovels. 



FEAST DAY 17 

A kitten with paralysed hind legs crawled up 
to us and accepted a httle rubbing. When dusk 
came we moved on, marvelling at the inexhaustible 
picturesqueness of Salonika. 

As we clambered down the breakneck paths, 
the priests were illuminating the minarets with 
hundreds of twinkling hghts. 

The next day was the Feast. Mahommedans 
were everywhere. By the women's trousers, which 
twinkled beneath the shrouding veils, one could 
see that they were gorgeously dressed. Befezzed 
men were lounging and smoking in all the cafes. 

In the evening once more we wandered up 
through the old Turkish quarter. We heard a 
curious noise Hke a hymn played by bagpipes, 
rhythmically accompanied in syncopation by a 
very flabby drum. Round the corner came four 
jolly niggers blowing pipes, and the drummer 
behind them. Very sHm young men with bright 
sashes and light trousers were twisting, posturing, 
and dancing joyfully. One of them threw to Jo 
the most graceful kiss she had ever seen. 

We left Salonika in the morning, having been 
wakened by new sounds. Thousands of marching 
feet, songs. This was puzzHng. 

In the train a young Greek told us that his 
nation had mobihzed against the Bulgars, but that 
it was not very serious. He said that there had 



18 NISH AND SALONIKA 

been very friendly feeling in Greece for England, 
but that we had done our best to kill it. 

" You see, monsieur," he explained, " your 
offer to give away our land. It is not yours to 
give. You say that does not matter, but that 
colonies, great colonies in Africa will replace the 
small part of land that we may surrender. Kavalla 
is more valuable to Grecian hearts than all Africa, 
for how could we desert our Grecian brothers and 
place them beneath the rule of the Turk or Bulgar ? " 

On the train were more American doctors. 
One had just arrived, and was still full of enthusiasm 
for scenery and sanitation. Also there was Princess 

■ surrounded by packing cases. Some months 

earher she had visited our hospitals in Vrntze and 
she had asked if one of our V.A.D.'s could be sent 
to her as housemaid. Seeing her in the station, 
Jo involuntarily ran over in her mind, was she 
** sober, honest and obhging ? " 

The American doctors and we picnicked to- 
gether. We ate bully beef and a huge water 
melon. The heat was awful. The velvet seats 
seemed to invade one's body and come through at 
the other side. One of the doctors sat on the step 
of the train, and Jo found him nodding and smihng 
as he dreamt. She rescued him before he fell off. 

After twelve hours they left us. Uskub once 
more and an hour to wait. We sat behind trees 



THE ORCHESTEA 



19 



in boxes on the platform and ate omelet mth a 
nice old Jew and his ten-year-old daughter, who 
already spoke five languages. 

Then to sleep. We found our half coupe con- 
tained a second seat which could be pulled down, 
so we each had a bed. At four in the morning we 
were awakened by the most awful imitation of a 
German band. 

What had happened ? We looked out. It was 
barely dawn, and a wretched httle orchestra was 
grouped at the edge of the tiny station. Every 
instrument was cracked and was tuned one-six- 
teenth tone different from its companions. What 
it lacked in musical abihty it made up in energy. 

Why, oh, why at that hour, we never found 
out. Perhaps it was in honour of the Princess, 
poor lady ! 




4, j^ 



m^ 

\ii> 




CHAPTER III 

OFF TO MONTENEGRO 

Back to Nisli in the rain, and Jo was wearing a 
cotton frock. There may be more dismal towns 
than this Nish, but I have yet to see them, and this, 
although the great squares were packed with gaily 
coloured peasants — some feast, we imagined — 
carts full of melons, melons on the ground, melons 
framing the faces of the greedy — cerise green-rind 
moons projecting from either cheek. The Monte- 
negrin consul was not at home, so off we went to 
the Foreign Office to give a letter to Mr. Grouitch, 
who sent us to the Sanitary Department of the 
War Office (henceforth known as S. D. W. 0.). 
S. D. W. 0. wouldn't move without a letter from 
" Sir Paget." We got the letter from '' Sir Paget " 
and back to the S. D. W. 0., to find it shut in our 
faces, and to learn that it did not reopen till four. 

Then came the matter of Jo's tooth. This 
abscess had been nagging all the time, it had 
vigorously tried to get between Jo and the scenery. 
We had sought dentists in Salonika, rejecting one 
because his hall was too dirty, a second because she 
(yes, a she) was practising on her father's certifi- 
cates, the third, a Httle Spaniard, had red-hot 

20 




PEASANT WOMEN IN GALA COSTUME — NISH. 



THE DENTIST 21 

pokered the gums thereof and only annoyed it. 
But we had heard there was a Russian dentist in 
Nish, a very good one. The Russian dentist turned 
out to be a girl, and tiny — she spoke no Serb, but 
Jo managed, by means of the second cousinship of 
the language, to make out what she said in Russian. 

" The tooth must come out," squeaked the 
small dentist. 

" Can't you save it ? " prayed Jo ; " it's the 
best one I've got, and the one to which I send all 
the Serbian meat." 

" It must come out," squeaked the Russ. 

" Can't you save it ? " prayed Jo. 

" It must come out," reiterated the Russ. 

" You're very small," said Jo, doubtfully. 

This annoyed the dentist. She pushed unwilhng 
Jo into a chair, produced a pair of pincers, and, 
oh, woe ! she wrenched to the north, she wrenched 
to the south, she wrenched to the east, and there 
was the tooth, nearly as big as the dentist herself. 

" I never can eat Serbian meat again," mur- 
mured Jo as she mopped her mouth. 

After tea we returned to the S. D. W. 0., and 
by means of our letter and our Enghshness we got 
in front of all the unfortunate people who had been 
waiting for hours, and received our passes, etc., 
immediately. 

Sir Ralph Paget's storekeeper wouldn't work 



22 OFF TO MONTENEGRO 

on Sunday, so we had also to rest, and we celebrated 
by staying in bed late and going for a walk in the 
afternoon with an Englishman who was en route 
for Sofia. We came to a httle village where every 
house was surrounded by high walls made of wattle. 
The women soon crowded round, imagining Mr. 

B a doctor. Jo pretended to translate, and 

gave advice for a girl with consumption, and an old 
woman whose hand was stifi from typhus, and we 
had to give the money for the latter's unguent. 
For the consumptive she said, " Open the windows, 
rest, and don't spit " ; but that isn't a peasant's idea 
of doctoring : they want medicine or magic, one or 
the other, which doesn't matter. 

The train started *' after eight " on Monday 
evening. The EngHsh boys at the Rest house 
were very good to us, adding to our small stock of 
necessities a " Tommy's treasure," two mackintosh 
capes, and some oxo cubes. One youth said, 
" You won't want to travel a second time on a 
Serbian luggage train " ; then ruefully, " I've done 
it ! The shunting, phew ! " 

A Serbian railway station is a pubhc meeting- 
place ; along the platform, but railed off from the 
train, is a restaurant which is one of the favourite 
caf ds of the town. It is such fun to the still childish 
Serbian mind to sit sipping beer or wine and watch 
the trains run about, and hear the whistles. We had 



SHUNTING 23 

our supper amongst the gay crowd, and then pushed 
out into the darkened goods station to find our travel- 
Hng bedroom, for we were to sleep in the waggons 
— beds and matresses having been provided — and 
we had borrowed blankets from the Rest house. 

We found our truck and cHmbed in. There were 
certainly beds enough, for there were thirty Hght 
iron folding bedsteads piled up at one end. We 
chose two, and, not satisfied with the stacldng of the 
others, Jan replied them, with an eye on what our 
friend had said about Serbian shunting. Even 
then Jo was not happy about them. 

We sat on our beds, reading or staring out of 
our open door at the twinkle of the station hghts, 
the moving flares of the engines, and the foun- 
tains of sparks which rushed from their chimneys ; 
Hstening to the chains of bumps which denoted 
a shunting train. We heard another chain of 
bumps, which rattled rapidly towards us and 
suddenly — a most awful CRASH. The candle went 
out, and we were flung from bed on to the floor. 
Our truck hurtled down the hne at about thirty 
miles an hour, and suddenly struck some soHd 
object. Another wild crash, and the whole twenty- 
eight beds flung themselves upon the place where 
we had been, and smashed our couches to the ground. 

We have read stories of the Spanish Inquisition 
about rooms which grow smaller, and at last crush 



24 OFF TO MONTENEGEO 

the unfortunate victim to a jelly: we can now 
appreciate the feehng of the unfortunate victim 
aforesaid. There were piles of packing-cases at 
either end of the van, and for the next hour, as 
we were hurtled up and down by the Serbian engine- 
driver, at each crash these packing-cases crept 
nearer and nearer. The beds had fallen across the 
door, so it was impossible to escape. When the 
lower cases had reached the beds they halted, but 
the upper ones still crept on towards us. In the 
short, wild intervals of peace Jan tried to push the 
cases back and restore momentary stabiHty. In 
addition to diminishing room, we were flung about 
with every crash, landing on the corner of a packing- 
case, on the edge of an iron bedstead, and with each 
crash the Hght went out. We will give not one 
jot of advantage to your prisoner in the Spanish 
Inquisition, save that we escaped whereas he 
did not. 

The engine-driver tired of the sport just in time 
to save our limbs, if not lives, and he dragged the 
train out of the station into the dark. 

At Krusevatch we halted for the next day. 
After a discussion with the station-master, who 
asked us to come down first at six p.m., then at 
four, then at one, and lastly in two hours, at 
nine a.m. we strolled up towards the town. There 
was an old beggar on the road, and he was cuddhng 



KRUSEVATZ 25 

a *' goosla," or Serbian one-stringed fiddle, which 
sounds not unhke a hive of bees in summer-time, 
and is played not with the tips of the fingers, as 
a vioHn, but with the fat part of the first phalanx. 
As soon as he heard our footsteps he began to 
howl, and to saw at his miserable instrument ; and 
as soon as he had received our contribution he 
stopped suddenly. We were worth no more effort ; 
but we admired his frankness. 

Krusevatz market-place is Hke the setting of a 
Serbian opera. The houses are the kind of houses 
that occupy the back scenery of opera, and in the 
middle is an abominable statue commemorating 
something, which is just in the bad taste which 
would mar an opera setting. There was an old man 
wandering'ab out with two knapsacks, one on his back 
and one on his chest, and from the orifice of each 
peered out innumerable ducks' heads. We returned 
to the station at nine, but were told that nothing 
could be done till one. So we went up to the 
churchyard, spread our mackintoshes, and got a 
much-needed sleep. The church is very old, but 
isn't much to look at, and we, being no archaeologists, 
would sooner look at that of Trsternick, though it 
is modern. 

We returned to the station to unload our 
trucks, for at this point the broad-gauge line ceases, 
and there is but a narrow-gauge into the mountains. 



26 OFF TO MONTENEGRO 

A band of Austrian prisoners were detailed to help 
us, and they at once recognized us, and knew that 
we came from Vrntze. They were in a wretched 
condition : their clothes were torn, they said that 
they had no change of underclothes, and were 
swarming with vermin, nor could they be cleaned, 
for they worked even on Sundays, and had no time 
to wash their clothes. They begged us for soap, 
and asked us to send them a change of raiment 
from Vrntze. We explained sadly that we were not 
going back just yet, but we could obHge them with 
the soap, for a case had been broken open, and the 
waggon was strewn with bars. We also gave some 
to the engine-driver, as a bribe to shunt us gently. 

We imagined that the soap had burst because 
of the shunting, but in our second truck discovered 
that this same shunting had been strangely selective. 
It had, for instance, opened a case of brandy, it 
had burst a box of tinned tongue, and even opened 
some of the tins which were strewn in the truck. 
And yet the truck had been sealed, both doors. 
Several cases of biscuits, too, had been abstracted, 
and all this must have happened under the very 
noses of the Englishmen who had supervised the 
loading. Some of the prisoners said that they were 
starving, so we distributed our spare crusts amongst 
them, and they ate them greedily enough. 

In the fields by the railway were queer palHd 



UZHITZE 27 

green plants wHch puzzled us. They were like 
tall cabbages, and shone with a curious ghostly 
intensity in the gloaming. 

We dangled our feet over the side of our 
waggon watching the flitting scenery. At one 
point we passed a train in which were other 
EngHsh people, who stared amazed at us and 
waved their hands as we disappeared. Dusk was 
down when we passed Vrntze, and we reached the 
gorges of Ovchar in the dark. We thundered 
through tunnels and out over hanging precipices, 
the river beneath us a faint band of greyish Hght 
in the blackness of the mountains. 

Uzhitze in the morning at 4.30 ; it was cold 
and wet. Jan wanted to hurry off to the hotel, 
but Jo sensibly refused, and we settled down till a 
decent hour. 

The hotel was a huge room with a smaller yard ; 
on the one side of the yard were the kitchens, etc., 
and on the other a string of bedrooms. We then 
crossed the big square to the NachanHk's (or 
mayor's) office. 

Outside the mayor's office we found an old 
friend. He had been a patient in our hospital, and 
gangrene, following typhus, had so poisoned his 
legs that both were amputated. He had been 
discharged the day before, and had travelled up 
from Vrntze, some eight hours, in an open truck. 



28 OFF TO MONTENEGRO 

The Serbian authorities had brought him from the 
station and had propped him on a wooden bench 
outside the mayor's office, where he had remained 
all night, and where we found him. He was a 
charming fellow, though very silent. Once when 
Jo had remarked upon this silence he had answered, 
*' When a man has no longer any legs it is fitting 
that he should be silent." 

He was waiting for his father, who Hved twelve 
hours away in the mountains. The old man came 
with a donkey, and there was a most afiecting 
meeting between the old father and his poor 
mutilated son. Tears flowed freely on either side, 
for Serbs are still simple enough to be unashamed 
of emotion. The donkey had an ordinary saddle, 
on to which our friend was hoisted. He balanced 
tentatively for a moment, then shook his head. A 
pack-saddle was substituted. 

" It is hard," he said, " young enough, and yet 
like a useless bale of goods." 

Twenty hours he had endured, and yet had 
twelve to go — thirty-two hours for a man without 
legs. This will show of what some Serbs are made. 

Within the office we found a professor whom we 
had met before, and who was acting as assistant 
mayor. We took him to the station and estimated 
that thirty- two waggons would deal with our stuff. 

Jo and Jan went for a stroll. Uzhitze, especially 




SERB CONVALESCENTS AT UZHITZE. 



UZHITZE 29 

in the back streets, is like a Diirer etching — that one 
of the Prodigal Son, for instance, all tiny, peaky- 
roofed houses. We took a siesta in the afternoon, 
but Jan was dragged out to talk to our professor, 
who explained that it was impossible for the Serbian 
Government to find thirty-two ox-carts at once, so 
the convoy must make two journeys. He also 
said that horses would be provided for us, and that 
we would take two or three days to do the trip, 
but that the ox-waggons would be at least seven, 
which was death to our romantic dream of toihng 
laboriously up almost inaccessible mountains at 
the head of straining ox-carts, sleeping by the 
roadside, brigands, and all that. 

We went down to the station, unloaded the 
truck and checked the numbers. A few were 
missing, but not so many as we had expected. 

A regiment of soldiers were called up ; at a 
word of command they pounced upon our packing- 
cases and hurried them off to a storehouse. The 
smaller cases were left to go on donkeys, two on 
either side. 

The professor dined with us. He is an Anglo- 
phile, and was determined after the war to go to 
England in order to discover the secret of her 
greatness. He had a theory that it lay in our 
educational laws, which he wanted to transplant 
into Serbia wholesale. Jan thought not, and 



30 



OFF TO MONTENEGRO 



suggested that it might He even deeper than 
that. 

Next day was a Prazhnik, or feast day, and the 
great square was crowded with peasantry in their 
beautiful hand- woven clothes. There were soldiers 
straight back from the Hnes chaffing and flirting 
with the pretty girls, and presently a group began 
to dance the " Kola " about a man who played a 
pipe. It is not difficult to dance the Kola. You 
join hands till a ring is formed, and then shuffle 
round and round. If you have aspirations to style 
you fling your legs about as much as space will 
allow, and we noticed how much better the men 
danced than the girls, who were almost all very 
clumsy. 

We were to be called at six, so went to bed 
early, and in spite of the odours from the yard 
slept soundly. 




CHAPTER IV 



ACEOSS THE FRONTIER 



We got Up in good time, breakfasted, but there 
was no sign cf horses. After waiting two hours a 
square man was brought up to us by the waiter 
and introduced as our guide. The professor, who 
had promised to see us off, was apparently cHnging 
to his bed, for he did not come. Our guide was a 
taciturn, loose-hmbed fellow, but had nice eyes and 
a charming manner ; he helped us on to our horses, 
and ofE we went. Jan was rather anxious at the 
start, for he had done very Httle riding since child- 
hood ; but his horse was quiet, and soon he had 
persuaded himself that he was a cavaher from birth. 
Jo was riding astride for the second time in her 
life. 

We took the road to Zlatibor (golden hill). 
There was a heavy mist, the hills were just outlined 
in faint washes on the fog, and as we mounted the 
zig-zag path, higher and higher, the town became 
small and fairyhke beneath us ; and a soldiers' 
camp made a queer chessboard on the green of the 

31 



32 ACROSS THE FRONTIER 

valley. Jo's horse cast a shoe almost at the start, 
but the guide said that it did not matter. We went 
on and ever up, our horses clambering hke goats. 
The scenery was on the whole very English, and 
not unhke the Devonshire side of Dartmoor. 

Our guide took us a two mile detour to show us 
his house. Later we reached a tiny village with a 
queer church. We off-saddled for a moment, and 
were welcomed by the inhabitants, who gave us 
Turkish coffee and plum brandy (rakia), while in 
exchange we made them cigarettes of Enghsh 
tobacco. At sixteen kilometres we reached a 
larger village, where we decided to lunch. We were 
astonished by the sudden appearance of a French 
doctor. He was dehghted to see us, more so when 
he found that we both spoke French, and invited 
us to coffee. We lunched with our guide at the 
local inn. We ordered pig; indeed there was 
nothing else to order. 

'" How much ? " said mine host. 

" For three," answered we. 

" But how much is that ? " rephed mine host. 
" You see, each man eats differently." So we 
ordered one kilo to go on with. 

Half a pig was wrenched from a spit in front of 
the big fire, carried sizzhng outside to the wood 
block, where the waiter hewed it apart with the 
axe. 



ON THE ROAD 33 

We had discovered peculiarities in our horses. 
They had conscientious objections to going abreast, 
and always walked single file ; this was owing to 
the narrowness of the mountain paths. Jo's horse, 
which somehow looked hke Monkey Brand, insisted 
on taking the second place, and would by no means 
go third. At last we reached the top of Zlatibor — 
which gets its name from a pecuHar golden cheese 
which it produces. The view is hke that from the 
Cat and Fiddle in Derbyshire, only bigger in scale, 
and from thence the ride began to be interminable. 
It grew darker, we walked down the hills to ease 
our aching knees, and Jan decided that horse riding 
was no go. 

Finally the guide decided that it was too late 
to reach Novi Varosh that night, and so the 
direction was altered. The road grew stony and 
more stony. A bitter breeze came up with the 
evening. We came to a green valley, at the end of 
which was a rocky gorge, down which ran the 
twistiest stream : it seemed as though it had been 
designed by a lump of mercury on a wobbhng plate. 
We turned from the gorge on to a hill so rocky that 
the path was only visible where former horse-hoofs 
had stained the stones with red earth. 

The village consisted of an enormous school, a 
little church, soldiers encamped round fires in the 
churchyard, and seven or eight wooden hovels. 



34 ACKOSS THE FRONTIER 

Our guide stopped at the door of the dirtiest and 
rapped. A furtive woman's face peered out into 
the gloom. We cHmbed painfully from our saddles, 
for we had been thirteen hours on the road. 

" Beds ? " said the guide to the woman. 

" Good Lord ! " thought we. 

She shook her head dolefully and said, " Ima," 
which means " there is." Serbians nod for no. The 
woman shd out into the night and passed to another 
building, chmbed the stairs to a veranda and 
disappeared. 

It grew colder, the guide was busy unharnessing 
the horses, so shivering we sought refuge in the 
dirty house, which was not quite so bad within as 
we had feared. It was furnished with a long table 
and two benches only, and was hghted by a small 
fire which was burning on a huge open hearth, 
and which gave no heat at all. The woman came 
back and led us to the other house for supper, 
which was boiled eggs, and the guide generously 
shared his own bread with us, as we had none. 
There was no water to drink, and Jo tried, not very 
successfully, to quench her thirst with rakia. 

There were but two beds, and on inquiry 
finding that there was no place for the guide, we 
allotted one bed to him. On our own bed the sheets 
had evidently not been changed since it was first 
made, and the pillow which once had been white was 



A SERBIAN SHELTER 35 

a dark ironclad grey. We undid our mackintoshes 
and spread them over both counterpane and pillow. 
We lay down clothed as we were, and by the time 
we had finished our preparations the guide was 
already snoring. 

As soon as the light was turned out the whole 
room began to tick hke ten agitated clocks, and 
all about us in the darkness began strange noises 
of hfe : rats scampered in all directions and were 
finally hurdhng over our heads. We had taken 
some aspirin to ward ofi the stiffness of unaccus- 
tomed exercise, but we were sore, and the narrow- 
ness of the bed forced us to he on our backs ; 
exhaustion, however, conquered all discomforts, 
and we slept. Jo awoke in the night and yelped 
to find that the mackintosh had shpped and that 
her head was resting on the pillow. 

We were up again at 5.30, and Vladimir, the 
guide, suggested that we should breakfast at Novi 
Varosh, four hours on ; but our stomachs were not 
of cast iron, and we clamoured for eggs. We got 
them, left Negbina — that was the name of the 
village — about seven, and once more adventured 
on the road. 

By eight we had passed the old Serbian frontier : 
the country was growing more interesting, hke the 
foothills of the Tyrol; on the streams were inefficient- 
looking old wooden mills, the water rushing madly 



36 ACROSS THE FRONTIER 

down a slope and hitting a futile little wheel which 
turned laboriously. 

Novi Varosh, with roofs of weathered wood 
gleaming purpHsh amongst the trees, was a wonder- 
ful httle town, and quite unhke any other we had 
seen ; clean without, and if the energy of its 
citizens at the village pump is a good sample, 
clean within also, for Serbia. Here are Turks too : 
ladies in veil and trousers, and trousered kiddies with 
clothes of orange, yellow and purple. Twice in 
the streets we were stopped by authority. Our 
lunch was well cooked, one can clearly see this has 
not been Serbia for long, for the Serbs are the 
worst eaters in the world. Jo gave medical advice 
to a Serb, and on once more. 

On the road were travellers never ending in 
their variety, and one father was mounted with a 
pack behind him, and on the top of the pack his 
Httle daughter clad in many coloured cottons, 
clasping him tight round the neck and peering 
inquisitively from behind his ear. 

About three p.m. we reached the Lim. The 
road chmbs to a great height, and the peasants in 
their gay costumes were reaping, some of the fields 
so steep that we wondered how they stood upon 
them ; on the opposite cliff was an old robber castle 
like a Rhine fortress. 

The Serbian town of Prepolji introduced itself 



PREPOLJI 37 

by six Turks lying by the roadside, then there 
were three Turkish famihes, afterwards an assorted 
dozen of small girls in trousers, finally, an old man 
doddering along in a turban and a veiled beggar 
woman, who demanded backsheesh. " Where are 
the Serbs ? " we thought. 

The Greek church looked as if it had been new 
built, so that the Serbs could claim Prepolji as a 
Christian town, and had a biscuit tin roof not yet 
rusted. 

Our hotel was hke that where Mr. Pickwick first 
met Sam Weller, a large open court with a crazy 
wooden balcony at the second story, and the bed- 
rooms opening on to the balcony. When we 
opened our knapsacks to get out washing materials, 
we found that the heat of the horse had melted 
all the chocolate in Jan's, and it had run over 
everything. It was a mess, but chocolate was 
precious, and every piece had to be rescued. We 
had only been ten hours in the saddle, but we 
descended stiffiy, and were pounced on by a fooHsh 
looking man, with a head to which Jo took im- 
mediate offence. This fellow attached himself to us 
during the whole of our stay, and was an intolerable 
nuisance ; we nicknamed him " glue pot," and only 
at our moment of departure discovered that he was 
the mayor who had been trying to do us honour. 

The next day was Sunday, and the village full 



38 ACEOSS THE FRONTIER 

of peasants. Stiff-legged and groaning a little 
witliin ourselves we walked about the town making 
observations : Turkish soldiers, Turkish poHcemen, 
Turkish recruits, but all the peasants Serb. The 
country costume is different from that of the north, 
the perpendicular stripe on the skirt has here given 
way to horizontal bands of colour, and some women 
wear a sort of exaggerated ham frill about the waist. 
The men's waistcoats were very ornate, and much 
embroidery was upon their coats. 

An Enghsh nurse came into the town in the 
afternoon. She, a Russian girl, and an Enghsh 
orderly had driven from Plevhe, en route to Uzhitze. 
Half-way along the wheel of their carriage had 
broken in pieces, so they finished the road on 
foot. Curiously enough we had travelled from 
England to Malta with this lady. Sister Rawhns, 
on the same transport. The Russian girl had been 
married only the day before to a Montenegrin 
officer, nephew of the Sirdar Voukotitch, Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the North, and she was flying 
back to Russia to collect her goods and furniture. 

Next day as we were sketching in the picturesque 
main street, from the distance came the sounds of 
a weird waihng, drawing slowly closer and closer. 

" Hurra," thought we — two minds with but a 
single, etc., — " a funeral — magnificent. Just the 
thing to complete the scene,'* 



THE CONVOY 39 

A string of donkeys came round the corner, 
on either flank each animal bore a case marked 
with a large red cross. Amongst the animals were 
donkey-boys, and it was from their hps came the 
dismal wailing. Never have we seen so ragged and 
wretched a crew. The boys were evidently the 
" unfits," and they looked it, every face showed 
the wan, pallid shadow of hunger and disease. 
A few old men in huge fur caps, with rifles on their 
backs, stumbled along, guarding the precious 
convoy. " Glue pot " led us all to a large empty 
building, once a Turkish merchant's store, where 
the cases were to be housed. The bullock carts 
with the heavier packages came in in the evening, 
and we sent the men five htres of plum brandy to 
put some warmth into their miserable bodies. 
This moved them once more to singing, but we 
think the songs sounded a httle less dreary. 

The Commandant asked for, and got, half a 
dozen sheets from us as a sort of superior back- 
sheesh, and promised us horses for the morrow. 

The next morning dawned dismally. Miss 
Kawlins and her companions were to go on by 
post cart, and their conveyance arrived first, only 
two and a half hours late. It was a sort of tinker's 
tent on four rickety wheels. There seemed to be 
barely room for one within the dark interior, but 
both Miss RawHns and the Httle Russian cHmbed in 



40 ACROSS THE FRONTIER 

somehow. Charlie, the orderly, clung on by his 
eyehds in front, and off they went. We last saw 
two faces peering back at us beneath the fringe 
of the tent. They had no luck. Half-way to 
Uzhitze the cart upset and they were all rolled 
into the ditch, missing a precipice of sixty feet or 
so by the merest fraction. 

Our own horses arrived later, we mounted, and 
with cheers from the assembled authorities, we 
rode off. 

The rain came down in a steady drizzle; we 
discovered that the waterproof cloaks which we had 
borrowed from Nish were not very weathertight. 
We chmbed right up into the clouds, but still the 
rain held on. From the floating mist jutted great 
boulders and huge red cliffs. Our guide put up 
an umbrella and rode along crouching beneath it. 
At 1400 metres we reached an inn, where we 
lunched. A Montenegrin commissioner insisted 
on paying our bill, and said that we would do the 
same for him when he came to England. Every one 
in Serbia or Montenegro is interested in ages. They 
were astounded at ours. They said that Jo would 
have been seventeen if she were Serbian ; and one 
rose, shook Jan warmly by the hand and said he 
must have " navigated " the marriage well. 

We rode over the frontier, but we were not yet 
in the real Montenegro. This is not the black 



PLEVLIE 41 

mountain where the last dregs of old Serbian 
aristocracy defied the Turk, this is still the Sanjak, 
three years ago Turkish, and with pleasant pastur- 
ages spreading on either hand. 

At last we came up over Plevlie. To one 
corner we could see the town creeping in a crescent 
about the foot of a grey hill, far away on the other 
side was a httle monastery, forlorn and white, hke 
a shivering saint, and between a great valley with 
four purpHsh humps in the midst of the corn and 
maize fields, hke great whales bursting through a 
patchwork quilt. 

Our horses were thoroughly cheered up, and 
we passed through the long streets of the town at 
a hvely trot, a thing Jo was taught as a child to 
consider bad form. 

A semi-transparent httle man in a black hat 
stood on the hotel steps beckoning to us. But 
we had no use for hotel touts, and waved our 
sticks saying, '' Hospital." He seemed curiously 
disappointed. 

The hospital, many long low buildings, lay buried 
in a park of trees. The staff Hved in a tiny house 
near by, where we were welcomed by the cook, 
Mrs. Eoworth. She explained that as the house 
was hardly capable of holding its ten or twelve 
occupants, a room had been taken for us at the 
inn, but that we were to meal with them. 



42 ACEOSS THE FRONTIER 

" Not that you will like the food," she said, 
" for it's all tinned, and I have only twenty-five 
shillings a week to buy milk, bread, and fresh meat." 

We wondered why, in such a fertile country, 
a party of hard-working people should be condemned 
to eat tinned mackerel and vegetables brought all 
the way from England ? 

However, the dinner was excellent — all " dis- 
guised," she said, for she had during the few weeks 
she had been there concentrated on the art of 
disguising bully beef and worse problems, and had 
sternly put Dr. Clemow on omelets and beefsteaks, 
as his digestion had caved in under six months' 
unadulterated tinned food. 

We met old friends, fellow travellers on the 
way out. In those days they were a wistful httle 
party, wondering how they were going to reach 
Montenegro, the Adriatic being impossible. At 
last one of the passes was hurriedly improved 
for them by a thousand prisoners, and they rode 
through in the snow. Since then typhus had raged, 
two of their number had been very ill, and one 
had died. Their energy had been tremendous, and 
everywhere in the country they were spoken of 
as the wonderful Enghsh hospital, and even from 
Chainitza, where there was a Russian hospital, 
soldiers walked a long day's march in order to 
be treated by the Enghsh. 



PLEVLIE 43 

Dr. Eoger's rival was there, the perpetrator of 
ninety hernia operations a week — or was it more ? 

All this on tinned food ! 

Our hotel room proved large and comfortable 
with a talkative wilhng Turk in attendance. We 
slept immensely and were wakened by yet another 
horrible cock crowing. All Balkan cocks seem to 
have bronchitis. 

PlevHe is a red-tiled nucleus with a fringe of 
wood-roofed Serb houses planted round it. There 
are ten mosques, while the only Greek church 
stands forlorn on the other side of the great hollow 
two miles away. 

The town is not really Montenegrin. It has 
the cosmopoHtan character of all the Sanjak, 
Turks, Austro-Turks and Serbs — a mixture Hke 
that at Marseilles or Port Said. 

The shops are Turkish, though their turbaned 
owners, sitting cross-legged on the floor-counters, 
can speak only Serb — a thing which puzzled us at 
the time. 

We saw veiled women and semi- veiled children 
everywhere, thickly latticed windows with curious 
eyes peeping through, and yards with high wooden 
pahngs above to prevent the possible young men 
on the houses opposite from catching a ghmpse of 
the fair ladies in the gardens. 

Plenty of long-legged Montenegrin officers — with 



44 ACROSS THE FRONTIER 

flat caps bearing tlie King's initials, and five rings 
representing the dynasties of the ruHng house- 
filled the streets, and also the inevitable ragged 
soldiers with gorgeous bags on their backs. 

Some of the women, too, were wearing these 
caps, but theirs were yet smaller and tipped over 
their noses, Hke the pork pie hat of our grand- 
mothers. One closely veiled woman showed the 
silhouette sticking up through her veil just hke a 
blacking tin. 

The Mahommedan is much more fanatic in these 
parts than his more civihzed brother of Salonika or 
Constantinople. Women of the two rehgions do 
not visit. The hatred is partially pohtical, and Jo 
began to reahze that her dream of visiting a harem 
would not be easy to achieve. We met three 
women walking down a lonely street. Although 
their faces were covered with several thicknesses of 
black chiffon, they modestly placed them against 
the wall and stood there, three shapeless bundles, 
until we were out of sight. 

Jan's feelings were very much hurt, but he 
soon got used to being treated hke a dangerous 
dragon. 

When we reached our hotel again we found the 
elite of the town waiting in the bar-room for us. 
There was a huge jolly Greek priest, all big hat and 
velvet, the prefect, the schoolmaster, a linguist. 



THE RED CROSS 45 

and the little black-hatted man whom we had 
mistaken for a hotel tout. 

The priest was president of the Montenegrin 
Red Cross, the prefect was a former Prime Minister 
and a Voukotitch. All important men who are 
not Petroviches are Voukotitches ; the first being 
members of the king's and the second of the queen's 
family. 

The httle black-hatted man was secretary of the 
Red Cross, and was formally attached to us while 
there as cicerone. He explained to us that they 
had all been in the hotel expecting us the night 
before, with a beautiful dinner which had been pre- 
pared in our honour. 

We apologized and inwardly noted the grateful 
temperament of the Montenegrin. We were 
solemnly treated to coffee and brandy, and the 
jolly priest emptied his cigarette box into Jo's lap. 
When the first pohte ceremoniousness had worn 
off we asked dehcately about the front. 

" Did we wish to see the front ? " 

Certainly, said the prefect, we should have 
the first horses that should come back to the town, 
and the Uttle transparent shadow man should 
accompany us. And our letter to the Sirdar 
Voukotitch, commander in chief of the north ? — 
He should be told about it on his return that 
evening from the front. 



46 



ACKOSS THE FRONTIEK 



At sunset the muezzin sounded, cracked voices 
cried unmelodiously from all the minaret tops. 
Immediately, as if it were their signal, all the crows 
arose from the town, hovered around in batches 
for a moment, chattering, and flew away up the 
hill to roost in the trees round the hospital till 
sunrise. 

Salonika rings with children's cries, Dawson 
city with the howHngs of dogs, but the towns of 
the Sanjak have no better music than the croaking 
of carrion crows. 




CHAPTEK V 

THE MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON THE DRINA 

When Jan awoke it was dark, and he was with 
difficulty rousing Jo when suddenly a voice howled 
through the keyhole that the horses were waiting. 
Jan grabbed his watch — 5 a.m. ; but the horses had 
been ordered for six. Hastily chewing dry biscuit, 
Jan jumped into his clothes and ran down. There 
was a small squat youth with a flabby MongoHan 
face hovering between the yard door and the inn, 
and Jan following him discovered three horses 
saddled and waiting. He hastily ordered white 
coffee to be prepared, and ran up again to hurry 
Jo and to pack. He rushed down again to pay the 
bill, but found that the Montenegrin Red Cross 
had charged itself with everything, very generously, 
so he ran up once more to nag at Jo. The secretary, 
whom we called " the shadow," had not appeared, 
so we inquired from the squint-eyed youth, received 
many " Bogamis " as answer, but nothing definite ; 
so we decided, as it was now past six, that he had 
changed his mind and had sent this chinee-looking 
fellow, whom we named ** Bogami," in his place. 

47 



48 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA 

Jan's horse was like an early " John " drawing 
of a slender but antiquated siren, all beautiful 
curves. Jo's would in England long ago have taken 
the boat to Antwerp ; her saddle stood up in a huge 
hump behind and had a steeple in front, and was 
covered by what looked like an old bearskin 
hearthrug in a temper, one stirrup hke a fire shovel 
was yards too long, the other far too short, and were 
set well at the back. 

" What queer horses ! " we remarked. 

" Bogami," said Bogami ; " when there are 
no horses these are good horses, Bogami." 

" Where is the secretary ? " 

'' Bogami nesnam " (don't know). 

From Uzhitze we had good horses, from Prepolji 
moderate, now these ; imagination staggered at 
what we should descend to if we did a fourth lap 
to Cettinje, for instance, but we chmbed up. Jo 
with her queerly placed stirrups perched forward 
something hke a racing cychst. Bogami' s horse 
was innocent of garniture, save for a piece of chain 
bound about its lower jaw, but he slung his great 
coat over the saw edge of its backbone and leapt on. 
He must have had a coccyx of cast iron. We had 
to kick the animals into a walk — there were fifty 
kilometres to go. 

After a while we began to wonder if it would 
not be quicker to get ofi and foot it, but we did 



SPEED 49 

catch up and eventually pass a Eed Cross Turk. 
We saw a soldier striding ahead. By kicks and 
shouts we raised a sprint along the level road ; we 
drew even with him, and then began a race ; on the 
u phills we beat him, on the downhills he caught up 
and passed in front. He was a taciturn fellow, and 
save that he was going to Fochar we learnt nothing 
about him. On a long uphill we gained a hundred 
yards, and by supreme efforts held our gains. He 
eventually disappeared from view, and we were 
rejoicing at our speed when we reahzed that the 
telegraph wires were no longer with us — one can 
always find the nearest way by following the 
telegraph, for governments do not waste wire. 
Jan looked for them and found them streaming 
away to the left, and among them, well up on the 
horizon, our enemy the soldier. 

" Look," we cried to Bogami, " isn't that the 
shortest way ? The wires go there." 

" Bogami," he repHed ; " wires can, horses can't, 
bogami." 

There is a fine military road to Chainitza, made 
by the Austrians, but it remains a white necklace 
on the hills, almost an ornament to the landscape. 
No one seemed to use it, while our old Turkish 
road which snaked and twisted up and down was 
pitted with the hoofs of countless horses. It is a 
stony path, and our animals were shod with flat 

E 



50 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA 

plates instead of horseshoes; they sHpped and 
sHthered, and we wondered if in youth they had 
ever had lessons in skating. 

There was a heavy mist, but it began to break 
up, and through peepholes one caught fleeting 
ghmpses of distant patterning of field and forest, 
and hints of great hills. The sun showed Hke a 
great pale moon on the horizon. There were other 
travellers on the old Turkish trail, horsemen, 
Bosnians in great dark claret-coloured turbans, or 
Montenegrins in their flat khaki caps, peasants in 
dirty white cotton pyjamas, thumping before them 
animals with pack-swollen sides, soldiers only 
recognizable from the peasants by the rifle on their 
backs, and Turks ; most were jolly fellows, and 
hailed us cheerfully. 

From a house by the roadside burst a sheep, 
followed by five men. They chased the animal 
down the road whistHng to it. We had never 
heard that whistHng was effectual with sheep, and 
certainly it did not succeed very well in this 
instance. 

Somewhere beyond this house Jan's inside 
began to cry for food, two biscuits and a cup of 
cafe au lait being httle upon which to found a long 
day's riding. He tentatively tried a " compressed 
luncheon." Its action was satisfactory, but whether 
it resulted from real nourishment contained in the 



METALKA 51 

black-looking glue, or whether it came from a 
sticking together of the coating of the stomach, 
we have not yet decided. Jo preferred rather to 
endure the hunger. 

Bogami had quite a charm; for instance, he 
appreciated our troubles with the beasts we were 
riding. Jo's horse stumbled a good deal on the 
downhills ; her saddle was very uncomfortable and 
so narrow that she could never change her position. 
We came into most magnificent scenery, the beauty 
of which made a deep impression even upon our 
empty selves. There were deep green valleys, 
rising to peaks and hills which faded away ridge 
behind ridge of blue into the distant Serbian 
mountains, great pine woods of delicate droop- 
ing trees which came down and folded in on 
every side, and though it was almost September 
there were strawberries still ripe at the edge of 
the road, little red luscious blobs amidst the 
green. 

Metalka at one o'clock, and we were on the real 
Montenegrin frontier. There are two Metalkas, a 
Montenegrin and an Austrian, and they are divided 
one from the other by a strip of land some ten yards 
across which rips the village in two hke the track 
of a little cyclone. Bogami directed us to a shanty 
labelled " Hotel of Europe." A large woman was 
blocking the door ; we demanded food, she took no 



52 MONTENEGEIN FRONT ON DRINA 

notice. Hunger was clamouring within us. We 
demanded a second time. She waved her hand 
majestically to her rival in Austria, at whose 
tables Montenegrin officers were sitting with 
coffee. 

An officer greeted us. 

" We had expected you yesterday," he said. 

We waved to the horses. 

" No horses." 

" That is a pity," he murmured. " You see, 
there was something to eat yesterday ! " 

In spite of his pessimism we got eggs and wine. 
Bogami had a large crowd, to whom he lectured, 
and we sent him out some eggs. 

After lunch we pushed on, in conquered terri- 
tory. To Chainitza they said was one hour and a 
half, it proved nearer three. 

We joined some peasants, and they told us that 
they were going to the great festival. The old 
mother halted at a sort of sheep pen by the 
roadside; when she rejoined us she was wiping 
her eyes. 

" That was my brother," she explained ; " he 
was killed in the war ; " f or it is the custom to erect 
memorial stones by the roadside. Many of these 
are very quaint, sometimes painted with a soldier, 
or else with the rifle, sword, pistols and medals of 
the deceased. 



CHAINITZA 63 

Chainitza lies in a backwater, where the deep 
valley makes a sudden bend. "Wlien we came to it 
the sun was in our eyes, and halfway between the 
crest and the river the town seemed to float in a 
bluish mist ; two white mosques stood out against 
the trees, and the roof of one was not one dome, 
but many hke an inverted egg frier, or almost as 
though it was boihng over. 

We were stopped at the entry by a sentry. 

** Where are you going ? " 

" To the Eussian Hospital." 

He took us in charge and led us, in spite of pro- 
testations, to the hotel. A man in a shabby frock- 
coat received us, and Jo, mistaking him for the 
innkeeper, clamoured once more for the Russians. 
The shabby man explained that he was the Prefect, 
and that this was a State reception. We began to 
be awed by our own dignity. We explained to him 
that the Shadow had changed his mind and had 
sent Bogami instead. 

Bogami brought our knapsacks to our room, 
where he was immobihzed by the sight of himself 
in the looking-glass of the wardrobe ; probably 
he had never seen such a thing before, and he 
goggled at it. He at last backed slowly from the 
room. 

We rested a while, then descended to find — the 
Shadow. 



54 MONTENEGRIN FEONT ON DRINA 

He was rather hurt with us, and wanted to 

know why the we had gone off without him. 

We explained, compared watches, and found that 
Jan's was an hour too fast. The poor Shadow had 
been chasing us on a borrowed horse, with our 
permissions to travel in his pocket, and wildly 
hoping that he would catch us up before we were 
arrested as spies. 

We had tea with the Russians in a little arbour 
on the roadside, and chewed sweets which had 
just arrived from Petrograd, having been three 
months on the journey, but none the worse for that. 
Many oflSicers came, amongst them the husband of 
the little Russian girl we had met at Prepolji. 
They all seemed to be Voukotitches, and at last 
the Sirdar himself honoured us. He is a huge 
man, and yet seemed to take up more room than 
his size warrants. He has a flat, almost plate-like 
face, with palhd blue eyes which seemed to focus 
some way beyond the object of his regard. Were 
his moustache larger he would be rather hke Lord 
Kitchener, and he was very pleased at the obvious 
compHment. He poses a little, moves seldom but 
suddenly, and shoots his remarks as though words 
of command. He was very kind to us, and was 
immensely astonished at Jo's Serbian, holding up 
his hands and saying " Kako " at every one of her 
speeches. He suggested that poor Bogami should 



PKAZHNIK 55 

be beaten, but we begged him off. Captain 
Voukotitch, the husband of a day, was appointed 
to be our guide for the morrow — because Jo spoke 
Serbian. 

After tea we went up to the bubbly mosque, 
which was in reahty the Greek church. We 
entered a large gate ; on the one side of a 
yard was the church, and on the other a big two- 
storied rest-house, where one could lodge while 
paying devotions or doing pilgrimages. Its long 
balconies were filled with country folk all come 
for the festival, and who were feasting and laugh- 
ing as though the war did not exist. The court- 
yard was filled with men and women in Bosnian 
costumes, white and dark red embroideries. 
Through the open door of the church one could 
see the silhouettes of the peasants bowing before 
the Ikons and reHcs. It was almost dark, and 
one man began to play a little haunting melody 
upon a wooden pipe, but though they linked 
arms and shuffled their feet, the young men did 
not dance. 

At supper the Shadow revealed a quaint sense 
of humour, and so to bed. 

The next morning was lovely, and we started 
at seven with the youngest Voukotitch and the 
others. Some officers had lent us their horses, and 
Voukotitch had proudly produced his EngHsh 



56 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA 

saddle for Jo. On the road the spirit of mischief 
entered him. 

" You can ride all right," he said ; " wouldn't 
you hke to go to the nearest machine-gun to the 
Austrian hues ? " 

" Rather," said Jo. 

" You'll have to do some stiff riding, though. 
I know the major, and he is bored to death. He'll 
let us." 

"But what about the bullets?" said the 
Shadow. 

In time the major was produced, emerging 
from a cottage by the roadside, other officers with 
him, and we had a merry coffee party in an arbour. 
One told Jo that he was a lawyer. The few 
Montenegrins who had the misfortune to be 
educated were not allowed to serve at the front, 
but he had been lucky enough through influence 
to be allowed to take a commission. He had not 
seen much serious fighting, however, as no move 
had been made for several months. 

Then we tackled the hills. " Come along," 
said the major, cheerfully; and his horse's nose 
went down and its tail went up, and off it sHd 
downhill. We had seen the ItaUan officers do 
such things on the cinematograph, but httle thought 
that we should be in the same position. We 
supposed it would be all right. Jo's horse became 



THE DKEINA 57 

nearly vertical, and slie sat back against its tail. 
Jan followed. Sometimes a sheet of rock was 
across the path — then we shd ; sometimes the sand 
became very soft — ^we slid again. Then a muddy 
bit, and the horse squelched down on his hind 
quarters. 

Here we met a Serbian captain who was in 
charge of the battery. He was very lonely, and 
dehghted to have a chance to talk, and he talked 
hard all day, showed us a neat reservoir his men had 
built, explained to us that beautiful uniforms were 
coming from Russia soon for the weirdly garbed 
beings who were guarding the hills, and asked us 
to lunch behind the trenches under a canopy of 
boughs. 

While lunch was being prepared he took us 
round his artillery, and into his observation station 
on the top of a crooked tree. Below us we could 
see the river Dreina — on the other side of which 
was Gorazhda, held by the Austrians — and the 
fortified hills behind. 

It seemed impossible that this wide peaceful 
scene was menacing with a threat of death, yet at 
intervals one could hear a faint " pop ! pop ! " 
as though far-away giants were holding feast 
and opening great champagne bottles. Away in 
the hills could be seen an encampment of white 
tents, which caused a mild excitement, for they 



58 MONTENEGEIN FRONT ON DEINA 

had not been there the day before, and we were 
told that they were quite out of range. 

During lunch the youngest Voukotitch tempted 
the major — who was in splendid mood — suggest- 
ing that it was rather tame to go home after 
having come within mere bowing distance of the 
Austrians, and that a few stray bullets would not 
incommode us. 

The major saw reason fairly quickly, so we 
bestrode our horses again and continued our 
switchback course. At an open space where the 
Austrians could shoot at us if they wished we 
had to plunge down the hill quickly, keeping a 
distance of one hundred yards from each 
other. 

The little Shadow prudently got ofi his horse 
and used its body as a shield. 

We banged at the door of a cottage, and a young 
lieutenant came out; somebody said he was nine- 
teen and a hero. 

Here we left our horses and began to scramble 
through brambles along a narrow path, chmbing up 
the back of a httle hill on the crest of which were 
the machine guns. Just before we got to the top 
we plunged into a tunnel which bored through the 
hill ; at the end was the gun. The hero scrambled 
in, wriggled the gun about and explained. He 
invited Jo to shoot. She squashed past him ; there 




SEBB AND MONTENBGBIN OFFICEBS ON THE DBINA. 




A CONCEALED GUN EMPLACEMENT ON THE DBINA. 



GOKAZHDA 59 

was a knob at the back of the gun on which 
she pressed her thumbs, and she immediately 
wanted another pair with which to stop her 
ears. The gun jammed suddenly. The hero 
pulled the belt about, and Jo set it going once 
more. 

The Austrian machine guns answered back and 
kept this up, so Jo pressed the knob again and yet 
again. Then we got into the trenches above. 
Whenever Jo popped her head over the trenches 
for a good look there were faint reports from the 
mountain opposite. One or two bullets whizzed 
over our heads, and we reahzed that they were 
aiming at Jo's big white hat. 

Jan cUmbed down the hill and took snap-shots 
of Gorazhda ; the enemy got a couple of pretty 
near shots at him. 

When the Montenegrins thought this sport was 
becoming monotonous they remembered the busi- 
ness of the day. A big house in Gorazhda was said 
to be full of Hungarian officers, and they wanted to 
get the range of this with one of the big guns. This 
decision had been made a day or two before with 
much dehberation. This they thought the State 
could afford. The precious shell was brought out, 
and every one fondled it. 

Men were called out and huge preparations 
were made for sighting and taking aim» We 



60 MONTENEGKIN FRONT ON DRINA 

scuttled round with field glasses, and finally stood 
on tiptoe behind branches on a mound by the 
side of the gun. There were many soldiers 
fussing in the dug-out, and at last they pulled 
the string. 

'' Goodness ! Now we've done it," Jo thought, 
as the mountains sent back the fearful report in 
decreasing echoes. We seemed to wait an eternity, 
and then " something white " happened far beyond 
the village. 

The officers looked at each other with long faces. 
" A bad miss — the expense." 

We felt the resources of the Montenegrin 
Empire were tottering. Awful ! Could they afford 
another ? 

Finally, with great courage, they decided that 
it was better to spend two shells on getting a 
decent aim than to lose one for nothing. The 
terrific bang went ofi again, and this time the 
'" something white " happened right on the roof 
of the house. The Hungarian officers all ran out, 
and the machine guns below jabbered at them. 
Nobody was killed as far as we know, but every one 
was content and dehghted. 

Sunset was approaching, and we rode away 
quickly, only stopping once to drag a reluctant 
old Turk from the mountain side and make him 
sing to the accompaniment of a one-stringed goosla. 



EETURN FROM THE FRONT 61 

He hated to do it as all his best songs were about 
triumphant Mahommedans crushing Serbs, and of 
course he couldn't sing those. 

He sat grumpily cross-legged on the ground, 
encircled by our horses, droning a song of two 
notes, touching the string quickly with the flat 
lower part of his fingers. 

We left him very suddenly because the darkness 
comes quickly in those hills, so we made for the 
high-road as hard as we could. 

We rode fast to the Colonel's cottage, sat down 
to the dinner table, which was decked with pale 
blue napkins, and a fine-looking old Voukotitch, an 
ex-M.P. in national costume, acted as butler. In 
spite of his seventy odd years he had joined the 
army as a common soldier. He refused all invita- 
tions to sit with us, for he knew his place. The 
young husband was his nephew, and they kissed 
fondly on leave-taking. 

We rode back in the moonhght. At one spot 
on the road was a sawmill, and the huge white pine 
logs lying all about looked hke the fallen columns 
of some ruined Athenian temple. We tried to 
enjoy the moment, and to brush aside the awful 
thought that we must remount Rosinante and Co. 
next day. 

The Shadow was terribly puffed up about 
his feat. The following morning as we were 



62 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA 

sketching in the town, an oflS.cer approached 
respectfully. 

" His excellency the Sirdar invites you to 
supper," he said. 

We considered a moment, for we had intended 
to return to Plevhe. The Shadow broke in. 

''It is inconvenient to come to supper," he 
said to our horror. " Tell his excellency that the 
gentleman and lady will come to lunch if he 
wishes it." 

The Sirdar meekly sent answer that lunch 
would suit him very well, and we could drive back 
with him to Plevlie. " Would we come to his 
house at 12.30 ? " 

The Prefect told us that we ought to go to 
the lunch at twelve, because the Sirdar's clock was 
always half an hour fast. We arrived, but the 
Sirdar evidently had been considering us, he did 
not appear for the half an hour, so we sat with his 
stajff sipping rakia by the roadside. 

The lunch was excellent, but the Sirdar's 
carriage, hke every other carriage in Montenegro, 
was a weird, ancient, rusty arabesquish affair, 
tied together with wire. We had two resplendent 
staff officers, armed to the teeth, who galloped 
ahead, we had two superior non-coms., also armed 
to the dentals, galloping behind, while on the box 
sat a man with gun, pistols, sword, dagger and a 



RETURN FROM THE FRONT 63 

bottle of wine and water which, we passed round 
whenever the Sirdar became hoarse. The coach- 
man was as old and as shabby as his carriage, and 
every five miles or so was forced to descend and 
tie up yet another mishap with wire — ordinary 
folks' carriages are only repaired with string. 

The Sirdar occupied almost the whole of the 
back seat, and Jo was squeezed into the crack 
which was left. Jan was perched on a sort of 
ledge, facing them. The carriage was narrow, 
six legs were two too many for the space. Jan's 
were the superfluous ones. He tried this pose, he 
tried that, but in spite of his contortions he endured 
much of the seven hours' journey in acute dis- 
comfort and the latter part in torture. 

In spite of his throat the Sirdar did nearly all 
the talking. The country we were passing through 
were scenes of his battles : with one arm he threw a 
company over this hill, with a hand, nearly hitting 
Jan in the eye, he marched an army corps along 
that valley ; he explained how he had been forced 
to give up the Ministry of War because there was 
no other efficient commander for the north. 

A blue ridge of pine trees appeared on our right 
hand. 

"You see those hills," said the Sirdar: "I'll 
tell you the story of a reply of mine, a funny reply. 
I ordered a general last winter to march across those 



64 MONTENEaHIN FRONT ON DRINA 

hills. He said that the troops would starve. I 
looked him in the eye. Then you will eat wolves, 
I shouted. He went." 

If we passed peasants he stopped them. He 
seemed to have an extraordinary memory for 
names and faces. 

" Never forget a face," he said, " never forget 
its name. That is the secret of popularity." 

He was very anxious that we should go to 
Cettinje and to Scutari. He kindly promised to 
see about it, to arrange for our horses and to have 
our passage telegraphed before us. At Podgoritza 
he said a government motor-car should wait for 
us. He advised us to make a detour from the 
straight road and to see the famous black lake 
of Jabhak and the Dormitor mountains. We 
thanked him gratefully. He waved our thanks 
aside. 

'' And I will write to my friend the Minister of 
War. He will arrange that you go to Scutari." 
He then explained all the reasons why Montenegro 
should hold Scutari when the war was over. 

" It was ours," he said ; '' we only gave it up 
to Venice so that she should protect us from the 
Turk. If we do not hold Scutari, Montenegro can 
never become a state, so if we cannot keep her we 
might as well give up Cettinje. After all we are 
but taking back what was once ours." 



KUSSIAN UNIFORMS 



65 



He was daily expecting the uniforms from 
Russia, and asked every soldier on the road 
for news. At last one said that he had seen 
them. 

" The stufE is rather thin, your excellency, but 
the boots are splendid." 




CHAPTEK VI 

NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

We were accosted by a clean-limbed, joyous youth, 
who bore on his cap the outstretched winged badge 
of the poHce. He said — 

" Mister Sirdar, he tell me take you alon' o' 
Nickshitch." 

Sure enough the next morning there he was, 
with three horses, which if not the identical animals 
of our Chainitza trip were sisters or brothers to 
them. It was a wretched day, gusty, and the rain 
sweeping round the corners of the old streets. 
Early as was the hour, the wretched prisoners were 
peering through the lattice windows of their prison, 
which evidently once had been the harem of 
some wealthy Turk ; where beauties had once lain 
on voluptuous couches, wretched criminals now 
crouched half-starved, racked with disease, and as 
we passed held out skinny arms. All Montenegrin 
saddles are bound on with string, even those of the 
highest in the land ; indeed, one cannot imagine 
how the people did before string was invented, and 

66 



TO JABLIAK 67 

ours began to slip before we were well clear of the 
town. Necessary adjustments were made, and on 
once more. 

Our guide was well armed — lie carried two 
murderous-looking pistols, and a long rifle slung 
over his back. He was in high spirits and showed 
us that the proper way to ride Montenegrin horses 
was to drop the reins on to the animal's neck, kick 
it in the stomach with both feet, elevating your 
arms and uttering the most unearthly yells. Thus 
terrified, the unfortunate wreck would canter a few 
yards, and our cicerone would turn in his saddle and 
grin back at us, who were humanely contented 
with the solemn jog-trot of our aged steeds along 
the well-worn horse-track — for there was no 
road. 

We crawled along, wretched in the downpour, 
the scenery completely hidden by the clouds ; but 
towards midday, as we chmbed ever higher and 
higher, we plunged into pine forests where the rain 
began to thin to mist, veihng the trees with layers 
of drifting fog. Out of the forests we came — the 
rain having ceased — ^into a strange-looking land- 
scape, whose japanesiness is equalled possibly only 
by Japan itself. There were the queer rounded hills, 
the gnarled and twisted httle pines and dim fir-clad 
slopes cutting the sky with sharp grey silhouettes. 
Here we stopped to eat. We opened a tin of 



68 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

meat and made rough sandwiches with the coarse 
brown or black bread which is the staple food of 
Serbian nations. When we were satisfied there was 
meat left in the tin. Two wretched, ragged children 
came on the road singing some half-Eastern chant, 
and we hailed them. They refused the food with 
dignity, and marched on offended. 

We came to the Grand Canyon of Colorado — we 
beg its pardon — of Montenegro, The Tara. Great 
chffs towered high on either side, great grey, rugged 
cliffs topped with pine and scrub oak. Down, 
down, down to the river, an hour, and we crossed 
the bridge out of Novi Bazar into Montenegro — 
thirty years free from the Turk. We halted at a 
little coffee stall made of boughs. Jan wanted to 
get a photo, but the women were so shy that Jo 
had to push them out into the open. 

On the way up the other chff our guide became 
communicative. He had been in America, in the 
mining camps, and spoke fair American. 

" In ole days, dese was de borders," he said ; 
" 'ere de Serb, 'n dere de Turk. Natchurally dey 
'ate each oder. Dey waz two fellers 'ad fair cold 
feet, one 'ere, one over dere, Turk 'n our chapy. 
Every day dey come down to de ribber 'n dey plug 't 
de odder chap wid dere ole pistols what filled at de 
nose. But dey neber hit nuttin. One day de Serb 
'e got mad and avade in de ribber, but 'e did'n 'it 



THE TARA 69 

de Turk. Nex' day dey bot' avade in 'arf way 
across. Dey miss again. De tird day dey avades 
in rite ter de middle, 'n each shoots up de odder 
dead. Yessir, 'n dere bodies float down ter 'ere." 

He looked up and pointed. 

" Dey was a gooman up dere," he said. 

" A gooman ? " 

" Yes, a man wat 'ad a gooman all to 'isself." 

" Dey was an ole town all made o' stones," 
our guide explained, " where dis man made 'is 
gooman. You know wat a gooman is ? — kill all de 
fellers what pass 'n do wat you hkes." 

We understood suddenly that " Government " 
was indicated. 

" Dat's wat I say," he answered, " gooman — 
'e was killed by a Montenegrin chap wat throwed 
'im orf de chfEs, 'n a Turk gets all 'is land. Dat's 
'ow dey was done dose days. Dere ain't much 'o de 
ole town lef now." 

" We 'ad to chase de Turk outer 'ere," he went 
on ; " lots 'o fighting, but we 'ad luck. You see, 
dey 'ad two lines, 'an we got de first line before 
'e was ready, 'n wiped 'im out, so de secon' fine 
did'n know if it was 'im retreatin' or us advancin', 
and we was into 'em before dey 'ad made up dere 
minds. Yessir." 

The ascent was terribly laborious. Our animals 



70 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

were sweating, though they were carrying nothing 
but the knapsacks. 

" Ye see dat flat stone ? " said the guide. " Dat's 
were de gooman feller 'ide 'is gold. Dey was tree 
Itahans chaps 'ere 'n dey turn ober dat stone ter 
roll it downill. 'N underneat was all dat feller's 
gold. Dat madum larf, I tell yer." 

We cHmbed higher and yet higher ; we thought 
we would never reach the crest. The sweat poured 
from us, and we were drenched. 

On the top there were but few stones of the old 
castle, and we rode over the ruins. We passed 
into a queer palHd country, pale grey houses, pale 
yellow or pale green fields, grey sky and stones, 
a violently rolling plain where our guide lost his 
way, and we became increasingly aware of the 
discomfort of our saddles, and prayed for the 
journey to end. 

We refound the route, and asked a peasant, 
'' How far to Jabhak ? " 

" Bogami, quarter of an hour." 

We cheered. 

At the end of twenty minutes we asked once 
more. 

" Bogami, quarter of an hour." 

At the end of twenty minutes more we asked 
again, our spirits were falhng. 

" Bogami, quarter of an hour." 



JABLIAK 71 

" * * * ! " 

We then asked a peasant and his wife. The 
woman considered for a moment. 

" About an hour," she said. 

Her husband turned and swore at her. 

" Bogami, don't beheve her, gentlemen," he 
cried, '* it's only a quarter of an hour." 

We left them quarrelhng. 

It grew dark, and we grew miserable. Jabhak 
seemed hke a dream, and we hke poor wandering 
Jews, cursed ever to roam on detestable saddles in 
this queer palhd country. 

At last a peasant said it was five minutes off, 
and then it really was a quarter of an hour 
distant. 

We came down from the hills to find the whole 
aristocracy^ — ^one captain — not to say all their 
populace, out on the green to do us honour. They 
had been informed by telegraph of our august 
decision to sleep in their wooden village. When 
we got off our horses our knees were so cramped 
that we could scarcely stand, and we hobbled after 
the captain into a bitterly cold room without 
furniture. Various Montenegrins came and looked 
at us, and an old veterinary surgeon, also en route, 
but in the opposite direction, conversed in bad 
German. The old vet. was a Roumanian, and the 
only animal doctor in all Montenegro. 



72 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

To their great surprise we demanded something 
to eat. 

" Supper is at nine," they said severely. 

" But we have had nothing since ten this 
morning," we protested. 

" But supper will be ready at nine," they said 
again. 

After a lot of trouble we got some scrambled 
eggs, but nothing would persuade our guide, whose 
name, by the way, was '* Mike," to have anything. 
It almost seemed improper to eat at the wrong 
hours, even if one was hungry. 

After supper we sat growing colder and 
colder. At last, in desperation, we asked if 
there were no place in the village which had a 
fire. 

" Oh yes, there is a fire in the other cafe," and 
thither we were conducted. 

We were in a jolly wooden room, with a blazing 
stove and a most welcome fugginess. The hostess 
brought us rakia, coffee and walnuts, and did her 
utmost to make us comfortable. Montenegrins 
crowded in, and discussed the probable end of the 
war. There was httle enthusiasm shown, most of 
the talk was of the hardships, and a little grumbhng 
that the farms were going to pieces because of the 
lack of men. 

Before leaving Plevhe, Dr. Clemow had 



JABLIAK 73 

presented Jan with a box of Red Cross cigars, 
and he handed one to the captain. The oflB-cial 
received it gratefully. 

" Ah ! " he said. " Cigars, eh ! One does not 
often see those nowadays." 

The cigar was a TrichinopoH. Jan said nothing, 
but watched. The captain Ht the cigar manfully, 
and for some minutes puffed, looking the apotheosis 
of aristocracy. Presently his puffing ceased, he 
looked thoughtful, and then saying that he had 
forgotten an important paper which he had not 
signed, he fled. We found the cigars most useful 
afterwards, as a sort of spiritual disinfector, in- 
falUble against bores. 

Into the cracks of the ceiHng were stuck white 
and yellow flowers, thyme and other plants, till 
the roof looked hke an inverted flower-bed. We 
had noticed this custom before, and asked Mike if 
it had any significance. 

'' Oh yes," he answered, " all dose tings, dey 
stuck up dere 'gainst de fleas 'n bugs." 

This was translated into Serbian, and the woman 
boxed his ears. 

We supped on meat — three courses — meat, 
meat, meat, and so tough that our teeth bounced off, 
and we were compelled to bolt the morsels whole. 
One course tired us out, weary as we already were 
with our journey, but Mike, making up for his 



74 NORTHEEN MONTENEGEO 

former abstinence, wolfed all his own share and 
what remained over from ours. 

The night was so cold that we went to bed in 
our clothes, and even then could not sleep for 
hours. 

We woke with difficulty to a glorious day, and 
found that what we had thought yesterday to be 
a plain was in truth a great plateau surrounded by 
towering grey mountains on which were gulfs 
and gulHes filled with eternal snow. Jabhak is a 
queer village, fifty or sixty weathered wooden 
houses — with the high-peaked roof of Northern 
Serbia- — flung down into this wilderness, where the 
grass and crops fight for existence with the pushing 
stones, and where the summer is so short that the 
captain's plum tree — the only one— will not ripen 
save in exceptional years. Never a wheel comes 
to Jabhak, and so it is a village without streets. 
Everything which passes here is horse- or woman- 
borne, and for hay they use long narrow sledges 
which shde over the stones and shppery grass as 
though it were snow. 

*' Urrgh," said a man, *' you should see this in 
winter. Snow ten and twelve feet deep, and only 
just the roofs and the tops of the telegraph-poles 
emerging." 

The village escorted us to see the famous Black 
Lake below the peaks of Dormitor. 



THE BLACK LAKE 75 

The lake is beautiful enough, but too big for 
mystery, too small to be impressive. One had 
imagined it twinkhng like the wicked pupil of a 
witch's eye, with cornea of white stones and eye- 
lashes of pine trees, and we desecrated even its 
stillness by shooting at wild duck with a rifle. 

Jan had been describing to the villagers how 
well Jo rode; they now think he is a liar. Her 
horse took an unexpected jump at a small obstacle ; 
the huge hump at the back of the saddle rose 
suddenly, threw her forward, and before she had 
realized anything, she was hanging almost upside 
down about the horse's neck, helpless because of the 
enormous steeple in front. This horse, as though 
quite used to similar occurrences, stood quietly 
contemplative, till Mike had restored her to a 
perpendicular. 

Then on again. At times the tracks grew very 
muddy, and the horses side-shpped a good deal. 
At the top of a pass we halted to get coffee from 
a leafy hut. Before us were the mountains of 
Voynik, a blue ridge with shadowy, strange 
crevasses and clifis ; behind us Dormitor was still 
visible, a faint stain on the sky, as though that 
great canopy had been dragging edges in the dew. 

Four women clambered up towards us. When 
they had reached the top they flung down their 
enormous knapsacks and sat down. They were a 



76 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

cheery, pretty set, and we asked them where they 
were going. 

" To the front," they said. 

'' What for ? " 

" Those are for our husbands and brothers," 
answered they, patting the huge coloured knap- 
sacks. 

" How far have you to walk ? " we asked. 

" Four more days." 

" And how far have you walked ? " 

" Four days." 

No complaining, no repining, just a statement 
of fact, these women were cheerfully tramping 
eight days with bundles weighing from 45 to 50 
pounds upon their backs, to take a few luxuries, 
or necessities, to their fighting kin. 

We bade them a jolly farewell, wished them 
luck, and started downhill. 

The track became so steep that we had to 
descend from our horses and walk, and so we came 
to Shavnik. 

Shavnik is not of wood ; it is stone, and as we 
came into its little square — with the white river- 
bed on one side — we reahzed that no welcome 
attended us. To our indignant dismay the inn 
was full, and no telegram from the " State " had 
arrived. 

We learned that in Montenegro are two kinds 





PEASANT WOMEN OF THE MOUNTAINS. 




A VILLAGE OF NORTH MONTENEGBO. 



THE SIEDAR'S RIDE 77 

of travellers — ^royalties and nobodies. Royalties 
are done for, nobodies do the best they can. We 
found a not overclean room over a shop — there 
was nothing better — we had already experienced 
worse : so we ordered supper, and went off to the 
telegraph station, to make sure that we arrived 
as *' Royalty " at the next stop. 

A man suddenly burst into the office, crying, 
"Sirdar! Sirdar!" 

Jo and Jan made their way through the dark- 
ness to the inn, squeezed between sweating horses 
to the door. We were admitted. 

The Sirdar received us kindly, but was dreadfully 
tired, and looked years older than he had two days 
before. He had ridden some 150 kilometres in 
sixteen hours, had left Chainitza at two o'clock in 
the morning, and had been in the saddle ever since. 
He is a famous horseman, but is no longer young. 
Almost all his escort had succumbed to the speed, 
and he was full of the story of his orderly's horse 
which had done 300 kilometres in four days, and 
was the only animal which had come through with 
him, he having changed mounts at Plevhe. We 
left him and went straight to bed. 

Just as we were comfortably dozing off, a 
man burst into the room and demanded " Mike," 
and said something about a horse. Jan dressed 
hurriedly and clattered downstairs. It was pitch 



78 NORTHEEN MONTENEGRO 

dark. He ran to the stable, felt his way in, and 
struck a match. There were two horses, one was 
lying on its side, evidently foundered and dying 
but Jan felt that they would not have disturbed 
him for that. By matchhght again he found that 
his own horses had been turned out by the Sirdar's 
orderly, and that one was missing. Mike was not 
to be found, but the missing horse was discovered 
by a small boy in the dry river-bed apparently in 
search of water. Jan retired to his bedroom to 
find that in his absence two more strangers had 
burst in, to Jo's indignation. He pushed them out 
and locked the door. 

When we awoke the Sirdar had already retaken 
his whirlwind course — evidently grave news called 
him to Cettinje — leaving the orderly's gallant horse 
dead behind him. 

" He kills many horses," said a peasant, shaking 
his head ; " he rides fast — ^always." 

We crossed the dry bed of the river and prepared 
for the hill in front of us. Suddenly Mike's horse 
plunged into a bog. The poor beast sprawled in 
the treacherous green up to its stomach, and, think- 
ing its last hour had come, groaned loudly. Mike 
threw himself from the saddle, and with great 
effort at last extracted his horse, which emerged 
trembhng and dripping with shme. Mike grinned 
ruefully. 



TURKISH ROADS 79 

" I orter remembered," he admitted. " Sirdar, 
'e get in dere one day 'imself." 

This day's riding was the worst we had yet 
experienced. Our horses were fagged, the road 
abominable, great stones everywhere on the de- 
generated Turkish roads. 

The Turkish road is a narrowish path of flat 
paving-stones laid directly upon mother earth : 
but that is the first stage. In the second stage the 
paving-stones have begun to turn and he like slates 
on a roof ; in the third they have turned completely 
on edge, hke a row of dominoes, and the horses, 
stepping dehcately between the obstacles, pound 
the exposed earth to deep trenches of semi-liquid 
mud. In the fourth stage the stones have entirely 
disappeared, leaving only the trenches which the 
horses have formed, so that the path is like a sheet of 
violently corrugated iron. Most of the tracks are 
now between the third and fourth stages of degene- 
ration. One never knows how far the horse will 
plunge his legs into the trenches, for sometimes they 
are very shallow, and sometimes the leg is engulfed 
to the shoulder. 

Jan's horse slipped over one domino, went 
up to the shoulder into a trench, and off came the 
rider. Luckily he fell upon a heap of stones, and 
not into the mud, but he decided for all that to 
walk for a bit. 



80 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

Every now and then one came across traces of 
the construction of a great road — white new stone 
embankments that started out of nothing, and 
went to nowhere, and Mike confessed that he had 
lost the path once more — ■ 

" When I come out of dat confounded mod ! " 

After a hustle across country we found the 
road, and wished that we had not, for 
it was a Turkish track in its most belhgerent 
form. 

At last we reached the top and rested awhile. 
Mike showed us his revolver. 

" He good revolver," he said. " De las' man I 
shoot he kilhn' a vooman. I come. He run away. 
I tell 'im to stop, but he no stop, so I shoot 'im 
leg. 'E try to 'it me wi' a gon." 

The man got fourteen years. 

We pushed on again, and on the road picked up 
an overcoat, which later we were able to restore to 
its owner, a Turk, who was going to Nickshitch to 
buy sugar and salt for PlevHe. 

Bits of the big white road appeared and re- 
appeared with insistence. We asked who was 
responsible for its inception. 

*' Sirdar," said Mike ; " he good boy. Much 
work." 

The country was now hke brown velvet spread 
over heaps of gigantic potatoes. 



A MONTENEGRIN INN 81 

Our horses grew slower and slower, and the 

inn which we were seeking seemed ever further and 

further away. We passed many peasants, and had 

evidently entered the land of Venus, for each one 

was more beautiful than the neighbour. Since 

JabHak we had not seen an ugly man or woman, 

and the dignity of their carriage was exceeded only 

by the nobleness of their features. Ugly women 

must be valuable in these parts, and probably 

marry early ; humans ever prize the rare above 

the beautiful. 

Mike spoke to many of the girls, asking them 

their names and of their homes. One had his 

own name — which we forget — and he said that she 

must be his cousin, and that if she would wait where 

she was he would come back later and give her 

a Uft. 

At last we came to the wooden inn. 

The better-class inns have dining-room and 

kitchen separate, the second-class both are one, 

but in each case the fire is made on a heap of earth 

piled in the centre of the floor ; there is no chimney, 

and the smoke fills the room with a blue haze, 

smarting in the eyes ; it drifts up to the roof, where 

hams are hung, and finds its way out through the 

cracks in the wooden roofing slats. This inn was 

second-class, and along one wall was a deep trough, 

in which were four huge lumps of a white substance 

G 



82 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 

which puzzled us. First we thought it was snow, 
but that seemed impossible ; then we thought it was 
salt — but why ? 

It was snow, there being no water fit to drink, 
so the snow was stored in the winter in huge under- 
ground cellars. 

We got coffee and kaimak— a sort of cross 
between sour milk and cream cheese — and as a 
great honour the lady of the house, a villainously 
dirty-looking woman, brought us two eggs. Jan's 
was bad, but he put it aside, saying nothing, for it 
is impossible to explain to these people what is a 
" bad " egg — all are alike to them. 

We took an affectionate leave of Mike, for here 
we degenerated to a carriage, which was waiting 
us, and he rode off, dragging our tired horses behind 
him. 

As we were getting into the carriage the dirty 
woman ran up and, before Jo could ward it off, 
planted a loving kiss on either cheek. 

We flung our weary limbs upon the rusty 
cushions. Our driver was a cheery fellow, who only 
answered " quite " to everything we said. We 
drove through miles of country so stony that all 
the world had turned grey as though it had remem- 
bered how old it was. The road twisted and curled 
about the mountains hke the flourish of Corporal 
Trim's stick : below one could see the road, only half 



NICKSHITCH 83 

a niile off as the crow flies, but a good five miles 
by the curves. We were blocked by a great hay- 
cart. Our driver shouted and cursed without effect, 
so he climbed down from the box, and, running 
round the hay, slashed the driver of it with his 
whip. We expected a free fight, but nothing 
occurred. When the hay had modestly drawn 
aside, we found *' only a girl." Poor thing ! she 
looked rueful enough. 

The road was the best we had seen in all the 
Balkans, white and well-surfaced like an English 
country highway, and at last we clattered into 
Nickshitch, the most important town of Northern 
Montenegro. It was Hke a fair-sized Cornish village, 
with Httle stone houses and stone-walled gardens 
filled with sunflowers. 

A charming old major came to the inn to do us 
the honour we had telegraphed for, and together 
we strolled about the streets. There is a pretty 
Greek church at one end on a formal mound, and 
behind the town runs a sheer fin of rock topped by 
an old castle where once had Hved another man 
who ** was a gooman all to hisself ; " now it is a 
monastery, and one of the most picturesque in 
Montenegro. 

We dined upon beautiful trout fresh from the 
river, and large green figs. Undressing, Jan found 
a louse in his shirt — that came from the dirty 



84 



NORTHERN MONTENEGRO 



bedroom at Shavnik evidently. He went to bed, 
but his troubles were not yet over; there was another 
foreign presence, a presence which raised large 
and itching lumps. He hunted without success for 
some time, but at last caught and exterminated an 
enormous bug. After which there was peace. 




CHAPTER VII 

TO CETTINJE 

The rain poured all night. At five o'clock they called 
us, telHng us ttot to wake up as the motor would 
come later. At six they knocked again, saying — 
' *' Get up quickly ; the carriage is at the door." 

No explanations. 

We hurried so much that we left our best soap 
and our mascot, a beautiful little wooden chicken, 
behind for ever. The major was waiting in the 
bar room. 

We were sorry to say good-bye, he was lonely, 
and we Hked him ; but we lost no time, as we were 
seven hours from Podgoritza and goodness knows 
how far from Cettinje. 

The carriage and coachman were the same as 
yesterday's, but his expression was so lugubrious 
in the downpouring rain that he looked another 
man. 

Just outside the village he picked up a friend 
and put her in the carriage. She was a velvet- 
coated old lady with a flat white face and two 

85 



86 TO CETTINJE 

bright birdlike brown eyes which she never took 
off us. Conversation was impossible, as she had 
only one tooth, round which her speech whistled 
unintelhgibly, and she hiccuped loudly once in 
every half-hour. We were most uncomfortable. 
The hood was up, and a piece of tarpauhn was 
stretched from it across to the coachman's seat, 
blocking out the view except for the Httle we could 
see through a tiny triangle. 

What with three humans, our bags, the old 
lady's bundle, and an enormous sponge cake, we 
were very cramped, and whenever we tried to move 
a stiffened knee her bright eye was on it, and she 
made some suitable remark to which we always had 
to answer with " Ne rasumem," " I don't under- 
stand," the while beaming at her to show we 
appreciated her efforts to put us at our ease. 

The mist and rain entirely obscured the view. 
Now and then a tree showed as a thumb-mark 
on the grey. We Httle knew that we were passing 
through some of the most marvellous scenery in 
Europe. 

The carriage settled down with a bump. Some- 
thing wrong with the harness ; string was produced, 
and it was made usable for the next half-hour. 
Carriages in Montenegro must have been designed 
in the days when builders thought more of volup- 
tuous curves than of breaking strains, for we have 



" WRITING " 87 

never been in one of them without many halts, 
during which the coachman endeavoured to tie 
the carriage together with string or wire to prevent 
it from coming in two. 

We stopped at wayside inns and poHtely treated 
the old lady to coffee at a penny a cup to make up 
for our inappreciation of her conversational powers. 

Women passed carrying the usual enormous 
bundles. Sometimes they were accompanied by 
husbands or brothers, who strolled along entirely 
unladen. 

Jo busily sketched everybody she saw. 

Passers-by demanded, " What is she doing ? " 
and the onlookers answered — 

" She is writing us ; " for everything that is 
done with pencil on paper is to them writing. 

One pretty young woman shook her fist, 
laughing — 

"' If I could write, I would write you,'^ she 
said. 

We were no longer in the Sanjak. Turkish 
influence had vanished, and we longed to see the 
famous Black Mountains of old Montenegro. 

At Danilograd we marvelled at the enormous 
expensive bridge which seemed to lead to nothing 
but a couple of tiny villages. We missed the 
picturesque Turkish houses, built indeed only for 
to-day hke their roads, but full of unexpected 



88 TO CETTINJE 

corners and mysterious balconies. The Monte- 
negrin houses were small and simple, four walls 
and a roof, hke the drawing of a three-year-old 
child. The only thing lacking was the curly smoke 
coming from the chimney. Broad streets lined 
with these houses were unexhilarating in effect, 
and would have been more depressing except for 
the bright colours with which they were painted. 

When the horses were replete after their midday 
meal we loaded up, adding to our numbers a 
taciturn man who sat on the box. We rolled on to 
Podgoritza, arriving at two o'clock in a steady 
downpour. 

Podgoritza seemed unaware of our arrival. The 
streets were empty, and the Prefect's offices were 
tenanted only by the porter, a Turk, who remarked 
that the Prefect was taking his siesta, and seemed 
to think that was the end of it. 

This was awful, after being Highnesses for a 
week, to be treated just hke ordinary people, and 
perhaps to lose all chance of reaching Cettinje that 
night. 

" Produce the Prefect," said Jo, stamping her 
foot, but the Turk only smiled and suggested a 
visit to the adjutant's office. Back to the carriage 
we went and drove to a place hke a luggage depot. 
No adjutant, nothing but gigghng boys. Our 
coachman became restive and said his horses were 



POD 89 

tired of the rain, so we deposited the old lady, 
substituted a man in American clothes who seemed 
sympathetic, and drove back to the Prefect's of&ce 
with him. There we found a sleepy Heutenant who 
ordered coffee, while our American-speaking friend 
explained to him that we were very Great People, 
and that something ought immediately to be done 
for us. So the officer promised to get the Prefect 
as soon as possible, and we went to the hotel to 
drink more cofiee with our baggy-trousered friend, 
who told us that he was one of a huge contingent of 
Montenegrins who had travelled from America to 
fight for the Httle country. " Say, who are your 
pals ? " said a nasal voice, and the owner, a pleasant- 
looking man in a broad-shouldered mackintosh, took 
a seat at our table. He was also a Montenegrin, 
and had been mining in America for some years. 
More coffees were ordered. We confided to the 
new American Montenegrin that we did not hke 
Podgoritza, and he tried to find excuses- — the hour, 
the bad weather. The hotel-keeper came up and 
intimated in awestruck tones that the Prefect 
had just looked in with some friends. 

Our appearance did not seem to impress the 
Prefect in the least, and small wonder. He owned 
to having received a telegram about us, but there 
was no motor-car available for that day, and he 
departed. 



90 TO CETTINJE 

''The Prefect is only more unpleasant tlian 
Podgoritza," said Jo to the American in the 
mackintosh ; but he deduced dyspepsia. 

The Prefect, having been to his office and having 
seen the heutenant, came back in five minutes, 
rather more suave in manner, and announced 
impressively that he was going to give us his own 
carriage. 

But the rain, the gigghng boys, the smiling 
Turk, and the sudden drop from royalty to in- 
significance had been rankling in Jo's mind. She 
sat back haughtily and remarked — 

" But the Sirdar promised us a motor-car." 

" I will go and see if it is possible," said the 
Prefect, and he dashed out into the rain. He 
returned full of apologies. All the motors were 
out, but he would send his carriage round im- 
mediately. " A delightful carriage," he added. 

It arrived — a landau such as one would find at 
Waddingsgate-super-Mare, so free from scars that 
every Montenegrin turned to look at it. 

The hotel-keepers, our American friends, and 
the Prefect and his captain stood pointing out 
its beauties, and we left them standing in the 
rain. 

" I shall always put on side in this country," 
said Jo as she bit a large mouthful of cheese. 

We pounded along, and the day slowly grew 



TO CETTINJE 91 

darker. We passed an encampment, where the 
firelight thrown up on to the trees made a weird 
and jolly sight. 

The hours passed by slowly. Suddenly (our 
coachman was probably dozing) we ran into 
something. It was a carriage, a square grey thing. 
Our coachman howled to it, and it started slowly 
forward up the steep hill. A bright hght streamed 
from the windows and cut a radiant path in the 
foggy rains. Some one threw away a cigar-end. 
The wet road shining in the glare of our pink 
candles, and the Hghtning flashing intermittently 
so that the mountain-tops sprang out to disappear 
again in the darkness; we felt as if we were 
hving in the introduction of a mystery story from 
the Strand Magazine. 

At last in the misty rain we saw the aura of 
the hghts of Cettinje. At last we wound slowly 
into wet streets, passed our mysterious companion 
without being able to see who was in it, and so to 
the hotel. Since the morning we had driven four- 
teen hours, and we were glad beyond measure to 
stretch and to find really comfortable beds. 

The next day we got up early. There was 
much to do. We were to see the War Minister 
about Scutari, to present a letter of introduction 
to the Enghsh minister, and to inspect the town. 

Nature has half filled a big crater with silt, and 



92 TO CETTINJE 

the Montenegrins have half covered it with 
Cettinje. 

It is a polychromatic village of Httle square 
houses, cheerfully dreary, and one does not see its 
uses except to be out of the way. The only building 
with any architectural beauty is the monastery 
where the old bishops reigned, and which must have 
many a queer tale to tell. 

Asking for the Count de SaHs, the Enghsh 
minister, we were directed to the diplomatic street, 
a collection of tiny houses grouped respectfully 
in front of the Palace, which itself was no larger 
than a Park Lane house laid edgeways, and with 
the paint peeHng from its walls. 

Over the front door of each little house a sort 
of barber's pole stuck outwards, striped with the 
national colours of the minister hving within. 

We noticed with pride and relief that the Count 
de Sahs' pole was painted a reticent white. The 
sympathetic old lady who opened the door directed 
us to the Legation. There we found him inspecting 
the damages wreaked by the storm of overnight. 
The Legation was big and cold, and as the handsome 
fireplaces sent out by the British Board of Works 
were for anthracite only (and Montenegro produces 
only wood), the Enghsh minister preferred his 
warm cottage to the unheated Palace. 

He wished us luck in our quest for Scutari, and 



THE MINISTER AND PRINCE PETER 93 

asked us to tea. We then hurried to an awful 
building where the governing of Montenegro was 
done — a concrete erection, presented to Monte- 
negro by the British Government, and an exact 
imitation of one of our workhouses. Here we 
found the Minister of War, a gorgeously dressed 
little man with a pleasant grandfatherly gleam in 
his eye. He only spoke Serbian, but with him was 
an unshaven young man whose chest was covered 
with gold danglers, who immediately began to 
air his quite passable French. We explained what 
we had been doing and what we wanted to do. 
The War Minister had not heard of US from the 
Sirdar, who had been resting after his terrific ride, 
but said that they were to see each other that day. 
The little man beamed upon us, and said they 
always wished to do anything for the EngHsh, but 
he must first see the Sirdar. 

" By the bye," he said, " I forgot to introduce 
you. This is Prince Peter, commander of the 
forces on the Adriatic coast." The young man 
arose and chcked his heels. We too got up. He 
shook hands with us solemnly, and Jo, unused to 
addressing Royalty, said, "Dobra Dan" (Good 
day). 

Then we all sat down again, a further rendezvous 
was arranged for the evening, and we left, carrying 
away the impression that the War Minister and 



94 TO CETTINJE 

we had bowed thirty times to each other before we 
got out of the door. 

Out in the streets, as we were sketching, we 
saw a large smile under a Staff officer's cap bearing 
down upon us. It was the Sirdar, quite rested 
and looking twenty years younger. He was going 
to the War Minister's, and promised to arrange at 
once for our visit to Scutari. He looked at our 
cryptic drawings of road scavengers, threw up 
his hands and ejaculating *'Kako" — strode out 
of our hves. 

Tea in the little house with the discreet white 
pole was a great pleasure. Such tea we had not 
drunk since leaving England — butter, jam made 
by the old housekeeper, who pointed this out to 
us when she brought in a relay of hot water. 

She was the daughter of a man who had been 
exiled from his village because he had taken a 
prominent part in a blood feud, and the old Gospodar 
had told him he would be healthier elsewhere. 
So they had emigrated as far as Serbia, where she 
had learnt to read and write. 

A lady of good family but bad character 
suddenly decided to leave Montenegro, and fled to 
the shores of Cattaro, carrying with her a large 
number of State secrets. The Court was aghast. 
What was to be done ? 

A villain was needed. The father was decided 



THE OLD DAYS 95 

upon, and with the help of the lady's brothers she 
was kidnapped, carried back to Montenegro, and 
disappeared for ever. For which noble work he 
was permitted to return to his village. 

The old lady had a supreme contempt for the 
Montenegrins who had not " travelled," but she 
looked upon the growing pomp of the Court with 
suspicion. 

" Ah," she said, " those were fine days when the 
king was only the Gospodar, and there were none of 
these gold embroidered uniforms about, and the 
Queen and I used to shde down the Palace banisters 
together." 

In those days the Royal family inhabited the 
top story only, while the ground floor was filled with 
wood for the winter. Just round the corner was 
the old pink palace, now used as a riding school. 
It had been the first place in Montenegro to possess 
a billiard-table. So, bilHard-tables being rarer 
and more curious than kings — the palace had been 
called the Billiado. 

The Queen, whatever agility she may have 
possessed once when navigating banisters, is now a 
sedate and domestic person, and doesn't hold with 
bluestockings, notwithstanding the " Higher Educa- 
tion " of some of her daughters. 

The story goes that once when the King was 
away she inaugurated one of those thorough-paced 



96 TO CBTTINJE 

spring cleanings dear to most women's hearts ; 
ordered the dining-room furniture into the street, 
and superintended the beating of it. Women hold 
a poor position in Montenegro, but one of character 
can carry all before her. A well-known EngHsh 
nurse was managing a hospital in Cettinje during 
the first Balkan War. One of her patients, though 
well connected as peasants often are in Montenegro, 
was a drunken old reprobate, and she told the 
authorities he must go. They demurred — his 
relations must not be offended. She insisted. 
They did nothing. One morning they found him, 
bed and all, in the middle of the street opposite 
the King's palace. 

The authorities swallowed th^ir lesson. 

In the evening we walked over the stony hills 
with our host, and first had a ghmpse of the real 
character of the country which had for so long 
kept the Turks at bay. One reahzed how much the 
people owed to the land for their boasted inde- 
pendence. Barren rock and scrub oak, no army 
could Hve here in sufficient numbers to subdue 
even a semi-warhke nation. Cettinje has been 
burned many a time by the Moslem, but starvation 
eventually drove him back to the fatter plains 
of the Sanjak, leaving a profitless victory behind 
him. Napoleon and Moscow over again. 

More miners from America passed with their 



DK. OB 97 

showy machine-woven clothes, accompanied by 
their wives, who had evidently stayed behind in 
the old country. Otherwise they would have 
picked up new-fangled ideas about the rights of 
women, and would certainly have refused to 
shoulder the enormous American suit cases while 
their men ambled carelessly in front. 

The next day we had a further interview with 
the War Minister, who introduced to us a man in 
corduroys, the only really round-faced person we 
had met in Montenegro. Part of his name was 
" Ob," so as we forgot the rest of it we called him 
Dr. Ob. He was the minister of drains, and such 
things. As nothing had been previously explained 
to him about us, he covered his mystification by 
haihng us jovially, after which he misconstrued 
everything we said. 

He became very excited when we said we had 
brought 14,000 kilos of stores into Montenegro. 

" But we have not got it yet," he ejaculated. 
We explained that it was for the Enghsh hospital, 
and he subsided, very disappointed. 

Scutari was talked over again, and Dr. Ob 
promised to come and tell us that evening if 
Cettinje could supply a motor for the next morning. 

More bows and smiles, and we left wondering. 
Montenegrins always promise even when they have 
no intention of performance — something like the 

H 



98 



TO CETTINJE 



stage Irishman, — and we were surprised when Dr. 
Ob met us in the evening and said that the motor 
was arranged for next morning at eight. 

We tea'd with the count once more. In the 
next house hved a gorgeous old gentleman, and we 
heard that he had been War Minister for forty odd 
years. After thirty years or so of office it was 
considered that he could better uphold the dignity 
of his position were he able to sign his name. So he 
had to learn. 








CHAPTER VIll 

THE LAKE OF SCUTARI 

Dr. Ob, dressed in thick corduroys and an enormous 
pith helmet, arrived punctually with the motor, 
a Montenegrin Government motor. He had two 
companions, a girl simply dressed with coat and 
skirt which did not match, and cotton gloves whose 
burst finger ends were not darned, a Miss Petro- 
vitch, and an officer. The coachwork — ^if one 
may dignify it by such a phrase^ — ^which was made 
from packing cases, had a thousand creaks and 
one abominable squeak, which made conversation 
impossible. The scenery was all grey rock and 
little scrubby trees ; the road was magnificent and 
wound and twisted about the mountain side Hke 
a whip lash. Driving down these curves was no 
amateur's game, and we saw immediately that our 
chauffeur knew his job. We came over a ridge, and 
in the far distance, gleaming Hke the sun itself, a 
corner of the Lake of Scutari showed between two 
hill crests. 

We ran into a fertile valley, passed through 
Rieka — where was the first Slavonic printing-press 



100 THE LAKE OF SCUTAKI 

— and up into the barren mountains once more. 
The peasants seem very industrious, every Httle 
pocket of earth is here carefully cultivated and 
banked almost in Arab fashion. The houses, too, 
were better, and rather Itahan with painted 
balconies, but are built of porous stone and are 
damp in winter. The Eieka river ran along the 
road for some way, very green and covered with 
water-hly pods. 

We passed a standing carriage, in which was a 
large man in Montenegrin clothes, and a httle 
further on passed a man in a grey suit walking. 
Dr. Ob gesticulated wildly, and pulled up the 
motor to gather in a Frenchman — somebody in the 
French legation who was going to Scutari for a 
week end. He turned suddenly to Jan. 

" Ce n'est pas une vie, monsieur," were the first 
words he uttered. He admired Miss Petrovitch 
very much, and told us in an undertone that she 
was a daughter of the governor of Scutari, niece of 
the King of Montenegro, and one of " les families 
le plus chic." 

We descended steeply to the Port, ten variously 
coloured houses and twenty-five variously clothed 
people. Miss Petrovitch, to our amazement, em- 
braced a rather dirty old peasant, the doctor dis- 
appeared to find us luncheon, the Frenchman to 
wash, and we strolled about. 



A LOVE OF ROYALTY 101 

A voice hailed us, and turning round, we found 
our mackintoshed American of Pod. We took him 
to the inn and stood him a drink. Dr. Ob came in 
and we introduced ; but Dr. Ob was sniffy and the 
American shy. His home was near by and he 
wished us to visit him, but there was no time. 

We lunched in a bedroom plastered with pictures. 
Montenegrins seem to be ashamed of walls, and they 
adore royalty. In every room one finds portraits 
of the King of Montenegro, the queen, the princes, 
the Ejng of Italy, his queen, the Tzar of Russia, 
the grand dukes and duchesses, the King of Serbia 
and his princes, and to cap all a sort of compre- 
hensive tableau of all the male crowned heads of 
Europe — ^including Turkey — ^balanced by another 
commemorating all the queens of Europe — exclud- 
ing Turkey — the spaces left between these august 
people are filled with family portraits, framed 
samplers, picture postcards or a German print 
showing the seven ages of man over a sort of step- 
ladder. 

After lunch, loaded with grapes which Miss 
Petrovitch's peasant friend brought us, we trooped 
down to the steamer, which had been an old Turkish 
gun monitor and had been captured when the 
Montenegrins took Scutari. 

The boat was crowded, and the Frenchman took 
refuge in the captain's cabin, which was crammed 



102 THE LAKE OF SCUTARI 

with red pepper pods, and went to sleep. Jo 
began sketching at once. There were two full- 
blooded niggers aboard with us: they were de- 
scendants of the Ethiopian slaves of the harems ; 
but the race is dying out, for the climate does not 
suit them. We steamed out into the lake, down 
the "kingly" canal, a shallow ditch in the mud. 
Magnificent mountains rush down on every side 
to the water, in which stunted willow trees with 
myriad roots — like mangroves — find an amphibious 
existence. We passed through their groves, hoot- 
ing as though we were leaving Liverpool, and out 
into the eau-de-nil waters of the open lake. 

In three hours we reached Plavnitza, a quay on 
the mud, where more passengers were waiting for 
our already crowded craft. There were officers, 
peasants, Turks, and soldiers clad in French fire- 
men's uniforms. These uniforms, by the way, 
caused a lot of ill-feehng in Montenegro. The 
French sent them out in a spirit of pure economical 
charity, and had the Frenchmen not been, on the 
average, small, and the Montenegrin, contrariwise, 
large, perhaps the gift would have been received 
with a better grace ; but the sight of these enormous 
men bursting in all places from their all too tight 
regimentals, was ludicrous, and the soldiers felt 
it keenly. 

Two women came aboard, attached to officers, 



GOVEENOR PETEOVITCH 103 

and wearing long light blue coats, the ceremonious 
dress of all classes; one carried a wooden cradle 
strapped on her back, the woman with no cradle 
had in her arms a baby of some ten or eleven 
months, which she fed alternately on grapes and 
pomegranate seeds. With each was a large family 
including a beastly little boy who spat all over the 
decks, and one of the fathers, a stern gold-laced 
officer, carried a dogwhip with which to rule his 
offspring. 

After a while we caught sight of Tarabosch, the 
famous mountain, and then the silhouette of the 
old Venetian fortress. From the water projected 
the funnels of yet another Turkish ship which had 
been sunk in the Balkan war, and we steamed into 
the amphibious trees on the mudflats of Scutari. 

A boat with chairs in it came for us and we 
disembarked. The boat was rather hke one of 
those that children make from paper, called cocked 
hats, only rather elongated, and the rowers pushed 
at the oars which hung from twisted osier loops. 
Governor Petrovitch met us on the quay. He was 
a fine-featured old man dressed in all the barbaric 
splendour of a full national costume, pale green 
long-skirted coat, red gold embroidered waistcoat, 
and baggy dark blue knee breeches with a huge 
amount of waste material in the seat. He kissed 
his daughter and greeted us genially. We clambered 



104 



THE LAKE OF SCUTAEI 



into the usual dilapidated cab with the usual 
dilapidated horses, and off to the hotel. 

The women on the roadside were clad in 
picturesque ever-varying costumes. There were 
narrow carts with high Indian-hke wheels studded 
with large nails ; there were Albanians in costumes 
of black and white, everything we had hoped or 
expected. 





CHAPTER IX 



SCUTARI 

After a wash we went into the streets. It was the 
Orient, just as Eastern as Colombo or Port Said. 
The httle fruit and jewellers' shops with square 
lanterns, the tailors sitting cross-legged in their 
windows, the strange medley of costumes — even 
the long lean dogs looked as if they had been 
kicked from the doors of a thousand mosques. 

We left the shops for further explorations. 
Scutari has always been described as such a 
beautiful town. The adjective does not seem 
picturesque: yes, quaint, strange decidedly. 
One's second impression after the shops is this : — 

^r 




Miles and miles of walls with great doors. 
The main streets branch out into thousands of 
impasses each ending in a locked door. There are 
hardly any connecting streets, for somebody's 



105 



106 SCUTAEI 

walled garden is between. The Mahommedans 
liide in seclusion on one side of the town, while 
their hated enemies the Christians hve on the other. 
Each house, Turk or Christian, has the same air of 
defiant privacy, the only difference being that 
the Turk's windows are blocked with painted 
lattice. The Mahommedan women's faces are 
covered with several thicknesses of chiffon, generally 
black, while the Christian peasant women walk 
about with an eye and a half peering from the 
shrouding folds of a cotton head shawl which they 
hold tightly under their noses. 

With difficulty we found the Enghsh consul's 
house, as the Albanians speak no Serb and Monte- 
negrins were not to be found at every street corner. 
At last we found it appropriately enough in the 
Rue du Consulat d'Angleterre. A gorgeous old 
butler resembling a wolf ushered us from the blank 
walled street into a beautiful square garden filled 
with flowering shrubs and creepers. Not to be 
outdone by the colours of the flowers, the butler 
was clad in a red waistcoat, embroidered with gold, 
a green cloth coat, blue baggy trousers, and a red 
fez with a tassel nearly a yard long, while a con- 
noisseur's mouth would have watered at the sight 
of his antique silver watch-chain with its ex- 
quisitely worked hanging blobs. 

The interior of the house gave an impression 



THE BOURGEOISIE WOMEN 107 

of vast roominess. Wide stairs, a huge upper 
landing like a reception-room, a panelled drawing- 
room large enough to lose one's self in, ornamented 
by primitive frescoes on the walls above the panels. 

The EngHsh consul was an old Albanian gentle- 
man with dehghtful manners. For a long time he 
had been suffering from an illness which had started 
from a wound in the head, received during the siege 
of Scutari. After the inevitable coffee and cigar- 
ettes his son wandered out with us and showed 
us the interesting parts of the town. Out of a big 
doorway came two women in gorgeous clothes. 
They had been paying a morning call, and bade 
farewell to their hostess. Doubtless they were 
mother and daughter. 

One was faded and beautiful ; the younger was 
of the plump cream and roses variety with modestly 
downcast eyes. Both wore enormous white lace 
Mary Queen of Scots' veils, great baggy trousers 
made of stiff shiny black stuff, which was gathered 
into hard gold embroidered pipes which encased the 
ankles and upwards. These pipes were so stiff that 
they had to walk with straight knees and feet far 
apart. Their full cavaHer coats were thickly covered 
with many kilometres of black braid sewn on in 
curly patterns, and the girl wore at least a hundred 
golden coins hung in semicircles on her chest. 

They left the third woman at the door and 



108 SCUTARI 

walked back a few steps down the road, tlien 
turned, and laying hand on breast, bowed cere- 
moniously, first the mother, then the daughter, 
who never hf ted her eyes ; another twenty steps 
and again the same performance ; still once more, 
after which they slowly waddled round the corner. 
Suma told us they wore the costume of the 
haute bourgeoisie, and probably the girl had been 
taken to see her future mother-in-law. 

The next vision that met our eyes was the doctor 
in his best clothes, frock-coat, white spats, gloves, 
and a minute pork-pie cap perched on the top of 
his spherical countenance. 

*' In Scutari it is necessary that I should be 
en tenue," was his explanation. 

Suma parted with us, promising to take us to 
the bazaar the next day, and we spent the afternoon 
sketching and avoiding a dumb idiot who tried 
to amuse us by standing on his head in front of 
whatever object we chose to sketch, and at 
intervals thrust into our hands a letter which he 
thought was a money producing taHsman. It said 
in Enghsh, " Kick this chap if he bothers you." 

There are other traces of the Enghsh soldiery here. 
Little children with outstretched hands flock round, 
saying in coaxing tones "Garn," or "Git away you," 
under the impression that they are saying " please." 

At a street corner we saw a professional beggar, 



SCUTARI BAZAAK 109 

a shattered man of drooping misery, his rags 
vieing with the colour of the road. Jo began to 
sketch, but he promptly sat up, twirled his long 
moustaches, and from a worm became a hon. One 
may be a beggar in Albania, but as long as one has 
moustaches one is at least a man. 

The bazaar next day filled our wildest dreams. 
Queerly clad peasants of all tribes came down from 
the mountains bearing rugs, rubbish, white cloths, 
cheese, honey, poultry, pigs, and they sat on the 
ground behind their wares in the blazing heat, 
while all the rest of Northern Albania came to 
purchase. The httle shops set out their pottery, 
silver- ware and brightly striped veils. Jo Hfted 
up a woman's leather belt covered with silver, 
thinking how nice it would look on a modern 
skirt; but she dropped it with a crash, for the 
leather was a quarter of an inch thick, and the 
silver equally weighty. 

Veiled women bargained and chaffered with the 
rest, some dressed in white with black chif!on 
covering their faces, and others still more bizarre, 
wore flowered chiffon, one large flower perhaps 
covering the area of one cheek and nose. 

More fanatic in rehgion than their men, they 
objected to being sketched, crouching to the ground 
and covering themselves completely with draperies, 
so we had to desist. 



110 SCUTARI 

There can be no arguments about beauty in 
these lands. It goes by " volume." 

Put the ladies on the scales, and in case of a 
tie, measure them round the hips. 

Vendors pressed gold-embroidered zouaves, 
antique arms and filigree silver- ware upon us ; but 
we ever looked elsewhere, and Jo suddenly pounced 
on a handkerchief, or rather a conglomeration of 
bits sewn together, each being a remnant of brilhant 
coloured patterned stuff. 

" But that has no value," said Suma, smihng. 

" Never mind, I shall wear it as a hat," said Jo; 
and Suma, somewhat perplexed, lowered his 
dignity and bargained for it. 

We next saw a brilliantly striped rug hanging 
on the wall behind an old woman, red, green, 
yellow, black and white, just what we wanted. 
She consented to take thirteen silver cronen for it, 
but no Montenegrin paper. She explained she 
was poor. She had brought up the sheep, spun 
and dyed the wool, and had woven the beautiful 
thing, and now she wanted silver because outside 
Scutari, in which the Montenegrins forced accept- 
ance of their notes by corporal punishment, paper 
was worth nothing. To get the silver we went into 
a general store and sold a sovereign. 

While we were waiting for the money-changer, 
two Miridite women came in. They had short 




JO AND MR. STJMA IN THE SCUTARI BAZAAR. 



A TUKKISH MOTHER 111 

hair dyed black, white coarse Hnen chemises with 
large sleeves, embroidered zouaves, white skirts 
with front and back aprons lavishly embroidered, 
striped trousers, and stockings knitted on great 
diagonal patterns. 

One of them told Suma that their village was 
in possession of Essad Pacha, that all their husbands 
had fled, and were still fighting in the hills. 

Suma, for a joke, asked her what she thought 
of Jo. Passing her eyes over Jo's uninflated frame, 
she hesitated, but was urged to speak the truth. 

" I think she is forty," she remarked ; and 
then somehow Jo was not quite pleased. 

The midday heat being overwhelming we took 
a cab and drove back along two kilometres of 
dusty road. A veiled woman stopped the coach- 
man, asking him to give her tired httle girl a hft. 
Jehu refused, through awe of us ; but we insisted 
on taking her, and begged the woman to come in 
too. Jo held out her hands, but the woman 
shrank back horrified, though obviously worn out 
with the heat. 

" That is a pity," laughed Suma. *' I hoped 
she would do it. It would have been a new 
experience for me." 

Jo confided to him her burning desire to enter 
a harem, but as he had no Mahommedan friends 
he thought the possibihty remote. 



112 SCUTARI 

Two more bourgeois women passed. Jan 
photographed them, but not before they hid their 
faces with umbrellas. Even the Christian men are 
intensely jealous, and their women have some 
Turkish ideals. We spent the afternoon sketching 
outside a barber's shop, coffee being brought to us 
on a hanging tray with a little fire on it to keep 
the coffee warm. Opposite was a shop which 
combined the trades of blacksmith and fishmonger. 
It seemed the strangest mixture. 

We dined with the Frenchman. He was a 
queer fellow, seeming only interested in economies, 
his digestion and his old age; and he discussed 
the possible places where an old man might live 
in comfort. Egypt, he dismissed : too hot, and an 
old man does not want to travel. The Greek 
islands had earthquakes. Corfu, he had heard, 
was depressing ; while in the Canaries there was 
sometimes a wind and one might catch cold. We 
suggested " heaven," and he looked hurt. He 
had been in Scutari in December. He told us 
that after dark it was impossible to walk down the 
great main street, which divides Christian from 
Turk, without carrying a Hghted lantern to signal 
that you were not on nefarious intent, or you might 
be shot. 

Mr. Suma came along the next day in good time 
and gave Jan a letter for the Count de Sahs. We 




^.^J 



CHRISTIAN WOMEN HIBING FROM THE PHOTOGRAPHER. 




SCUTARI— BAZAAR AND OLD VENETIAN FORTRESS. 



AT THE QUAY 113 

bade him a most cordial farewell, assuring him 
prophetically that we should revisit Scutari — little 
did we dream in what circumstances,' — and he said 
we would then see the "" Maison Pigit," a show 
castle which he had, in vain, urged us to visit^ 
Paget was an Enghshman who seems to have spent 
ten or twelve years dreaming away Hfe in Scutari, 
and collecting ancient weapons. With the out- 
break of the South African war he disappeared. He 
was then heard of fighting for the Turk against the 
Itahan, and later for the Turk against the Balkan 
alhance. He has never returned. 

With Dr. Ob we drove to the quay, on the road 
passing an old woman staggering along beneath 
the weight of a complete iron and brass bedstead. 

As we got out of our carriage we noticed a 
rabble of Turks hurrying towards us. In its midst 
was a brougham with windows tight shut and 
veiled, from which we guessed that some hght of 
the harem was to be a fellow passenger. The 
carriage halted, and whatever was within was 
hustled from the farthest door and in the midst 
of the dense mob of men hurried down the quay. 
The side of the steamer was crowded with craft, 
so we passed beneath the stern to embark on the 
far side, to find that the Turkish lady and her 
escort had passed beneath the bows for a similar 
purpose. We caused a flutter, the beauty was 



114 SCUTARI 

hastily lifted on board like a bale of goods, and we 
caught a ghmpse of magnificent pink brocaded 
trousers and jewelled shoes beneath her red orange 
covering. Two women — one a Christian — followed, 
and when she was seated, bent over her as a sort 
of screen to hide even her clothes from the gaze 
of the naughty infidel. 

Governor Petrovitch came down to the quay to 
bid us good-bye. With him came his daughter, 
who was returning with us. She had nothing 
interesting to say about Scutari. The Frenchman 
had brought with him a cook whom he had engaged 
to look after his digestion. 

We found comfortable seats on a long box with 
a bale as a back rest, and the governor sent two 
chairs for the ladies. As we steamed away we 
pondered on the problem of Scutari. 

There are in all, say, 300,000 Serbs, a high esti- 
mate, in all Montenegro. The population of the 
Sanjak and its cities, Plevhe, Ipek, Berane, and 
Jakovitza, are of course largely Mussulman or 
Albanian, and already the balance of people in the 
httle mountain kingdom is wavering. If Montenegro 
adds to herself Scutari, a town in which the Serb 
population is practically " nil," the scales swing 
over heavily against the ruhng classes, and either 
one will see Montenegro absorb Scutari, to be in 
turn absorbed by Scutari itseH ; or we shall see 




DISEMBAKKATION OF A TURKISH BRIDE. 







-,«'J 



m 



:-i 



GOVERNOR PETROVITCH AND HIS DAUGHTER IN THEIR STATE BARGE. 



THE TURKISH BRIDE 115 

the crimes of Austro-Hungary repeated upon a 
smaller scale, and Montenegro will be some day- 
condemned before a tribunal of Europe for con- 
tinued injustice to the people entrusted to her. 
The Albanians loathe the Serb even more than 
they hate the Turk, and at present, in spite of the 
fact that they are on their best manners, the 
Montenegrin pohce and soldiery have the appear- 
ance of a debt collector in the house of one who has 
backed a friend's bill. 

An Albanian noble said to Jan, '' We are quiet 
now : the Powers have no time to waste upon us, 
and we are not going to revolt and let ourselves 
be murdered without redress. But, if after the 
war things are not righted, monsieur, there will 
be a revolution every day." 

We saw a pehcan, and of course some one had 
to try and kill it ; but luckily the criminal was an 
average shot only. The pehcan flew off flapping 
its broad white wings. The Frenchman told us 
that the Turkish lady round the corner is a gipsy 
bride to be. A hght dawned upon us. The bed, 
these boxes we were sitting upon : she was taking 
her furniture with her. Jan peered round at her. 
She was sitting on a low stool, and the two screens 
were standing at duty. They had chosen the most 
secluded spot in the boat, which was next to the 
boilers. The day itself was very, hot, and the 



116 SCUTARI 

atmospliere witMn the poor bride's tliick coverings 
must liave been awful, tbougb when nobody was 
looking she was allowed to raise for a second the 
many thicknesses of black chiffon which shrouded 
her face, and to gasp a few chestfuUs of fresh air. 

Dr. Ob suddenly produced a large sheep's head 
which he dissected with medical knowledge. He 
gouged out an eye which he offered to Jo ; upon 
her refusing the succulent morsel he gave a sigh of 
rehef and wolfed it himself. One of the men on 
board had a fiddle, and played us across the lake. 
Some one said, " Give us the Merry Widow." 

He shook his head. 

" Come on," said his tempter, " there's no one 
here. Give it us." At last, looking at Miss Petro- 
vitch and us, the musician timidly started the music, 
for the " Merry Widow " is " straffed " in Monte- 
negro as one of the characters is a caricature of 
Prince Danilo, hence everybody plays it with 
gusto in private. 

We came again to Plavnitza. A huge crowd of 
Turks were waiting for us ; one wild befezzed 
ruffian had a concertina and was capering to his 
own strains. 

We were suddenly disturbed, the box was 
wrested away, the bundles also, the bed was 
carried off, also a tin dish too small for a bath, 
too big for a basin, and a tin watering pot — the 



DK. OB IN A FUEY 117 

bride's trousseau. The bride was seized by two 
men, her brothers we were told, and carried up 
the stairs to a waiting brougham, the trousseau 
was piled upon a bullock cart, and shouting and 
singing and dancing the cortege moved out of 
sight. 

At Virbazar the steamer could not come to 
the quay, so the authorities ran a five-inch 
rounded tree trunk from the boat to the mud. 
Many dared the perilous crossing, and one nearly 
fell into the water. Dr. Ob was furious, and at 
last a plank was substituted. Then we found that 
the only way off the mud was by clambering 
round a corner of wall on some shaky stepping stones. 
Dr. Ob fumed, his httle round face grew rounder, 
his moustache went up and down, he threatened 
everybody with instant execution, hke the Ked 
Queen in " Alice." Then he found that no motor 
was awaiting us. He rushed to the telephone 
while we had a belated lunch. No motors ; one 
was out taking the Serbian officers for a joy-ride; 
Prince Peter had taken the other to Antivari. 
Montenegro seemed to have no more. We soothed 
ourselves with " American " grapes. This grape 
tastes not unHke strawberries and cream, but not 
having the same sentimental associations, does not 
come off quite as well. We heard a motor coming. 
Dr. Ob ran out to intercept it. It was crammed. 



118 SCUTARI 

Then the telephone boy brought a message that 
Prince Peter's motor would not return till to- 
morrow. 

Miss Petrovitch wrung her hands. 

" We cannot stay here the night," she said. 

" Axe the bugs awful ? " we asked. 

" It's not the bugs, it's those dreadful women," 
she answered. " We shall all be murdered in 
our beds." 

Now the women appeared to us most inoffensive. 

Dr. Ob was purple with rage. He stamped his 
foot. 

" But I am a minister," he kept repeating 
crescendo, till he shouted to the villagers, " But 
I am a minister." 

It is impossible to take Montenegro seriously. 
Situations occur at every corner which remind one 
irresistibly of " the Rose and the Ring," and we 
wondered what would happen next. There were 
other belated passengers who had hoped for con- 
veyance, and the Frenchman's carriage had not 
turned up. Dr. Ob at last decided to commandeer 
a cocked hat boat rowed by four women with which 
to navigate the river to Rieka, and thence by 
carriage to Cettinje if carriages came. It was 
six p.m., we might reach Rieka by ten. 

We rowed out through the half-sunken trees. 
At the end of a spit of land was a man gnawing a 



BIEKA RIVER 119 

piece of raw beef. We shouted to Mm to ask 
what he was doing ; and he answered that he was 
curing his malaria. The two women in the bow 
were very pretty, one was a mere child. 

There were wisps of sunset cloud in the sky, 
and soon night came quite down. 

As it grew dark all sense of motion disappeared. 
The boat shrugged uneasily with the movement of 
the oars, the rowlocks made of loops of twisted osier 
creaked, but one could not perceive that one was 
going forwards. The hills lost their soHdity, 
becoming mere holes in the grey blue of the sky, 
a bright planet made a hght smudge on the rufEed 
water in which the stars could not reflect. As we 
crept forwards into the river and the mountains 
closed in, the water became more calm, and the 
stars came out one by one beneath us, while in 
the ripple of our wake the image of the planet 
ran up continuously in strings of Httle golden balls 
Hke a jugghng trick. 

The Frenchman turned his head and made a 
noise like the rowlocks. *'I1 faut chanter quand 
meme," he explained, " pour encourager les autres." 
Jo then started " Frere Jacques." Jan and Dr. 
Ob took it up till the Frenchman burst in with an 
entirely different time and key. Then one of the oar 
girls began a queer little melody on four notes only, 
and all the four women joined, one end of the boat 



120 SCUTARI 

answering the other. They sang through their 
noses, and high up in the falsetto. By shutting 
one's eyes one could imagine a great ox waggon 
drawn uphill by four bullocks and one of the wheels 
ungreased. Yet it was not unpleasing, this queer 
shrill, recurrent rhythm, the monotonous creak 
and splash of the oars, the mystery of feehng 
one's way in the blue gloom, through reed and 
water-hly beds, up this chff-bound river, and far 
away the faint twitter — also recurrent and 
monotonous — of some nightjar. . . . 

The night grew bitterly cold on the water. 
One of our passengers, a httle Russian dressmaker, 
had malaria and shivered with ague. Jo gave her 
her cloak. The Frenchman's cook was unsuitably 
dressed, for she had on but a thin chiffon blouse. 
We ourselves had summer clothes, and we were all 
mightily glad to see the glare of Rieka in the sky. 

Our luck be praised, there were two old carriages 
with older horses, and another for the Frenchman. 
We supped moderately at a restaurant kept by an 
Austrian, and still shivering scrambled into the 
carriages. We had no Hghts, but the road was 
visible by the stars. 

We went up and up, up the same road down 
which we had come three days before. Below one 
could see strange planes of different darknesses, 
but not any shape, and soon one was too aware of 



CETTINJE AGAIN 121 

physical discomfort to notice the night. Besides, 
one had had enough of night. Miss Petrovitch told 
the boy to hurry up the horses ; he beat them ; she 
then rebuked him for beating them. After a while 
the boy grew tired of her contradictory orders, and 
lying down on the box fell fast asleep. The poor 
old horses plodded along. To right and left were 
immense precipices, but nobody seemed to care. 

We reached Cettinje about two a.m., found the 
hotel open, and a room ready for us, and in spite of 
our frozen Hmbs were soon asleep. 




CHAPTER X 

THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

We went next day to see the doctor, who was late, 
so we strolled out to the market. They were selling 
grapes and figs, fresh walnuts, and lots of little 
dried fish, strung on to rings of willow, from the 
lake of Scutari. The scene, with the men in their 
costumes of red and blue, the women all respectably 
dressed in long embroidered coats of pale blue or 
white, and the village idiot, a man prancing about 
dressed in nothing but a woman's overall, was very 
gay. We caught the doctor later. He was talking 

with a Mrs. G , an Enghshwoman, from the 

hospital at Podgoritza: she was trying to hustle 
him as one hustles the butcher who has belated the 
meat. The doctor had let up his efforts since his 
orgy of respectability in Scutari, and his beard and 
whiskers were enjoying a half -inch holiday from 
the razor. With him was a Slav-Hungarian, who 
recommended us to go home by Gussigne, Plav and 
Ipek, the best scenery in all Montenegro he said ; 
he himself had just returned from Scutari, whence 

122 



THE BENZINE 123 

he^ had advanced with a Montenegrin army halfway 
across Albania. At each village the natives had 
fled, burying their corn and driving off their cattle, 
leaving the villages deserted, and the army, starv- 
ing, had at last been forced to retire. Dr. Ob 
promised us a motor by four, but added that they 
had no oil and very httle benzine. Then growing 
more confidential, he took us by the buttonholes 
and asked us to use our best influence with the 
Count de Sahs, and request him to tell the Admiralty 
to allow petrol to be brought up from Salonika, 
where the British had laid an embargo upon it. 
He promised pathetically that all the petrol would 
be brought up overland. 

Intensely amused by the doctor's idea of our 
importance, we solemnly delivered his message to 
the Count. 

We went to the Serbian Minister, a charming 
man with a freebooter's face, for our passports, 
and then back to Dr. Ob. The motor was going 
off at 6.30 he said. We cheered internally, for we 
were getting tired of Cettinje, which reminded us 
of a watchmaker's wife with her best silk dress on. 
On our way downstairs we called in to thank the 
Minister of War for our jolly trip ; and he wished us 
" Bon voyage." 

We got en route almost up to time, with us was 
Mrs. G , who was also going back as far as 



124 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

Podgoritza. She was storekeeper and accountant 
for the Wounded AlKes, and ever had a hard and 
troublesome task between what she needed and 
what she could get from the Sanitary Department. 
She took the front seat with Jo, and inside Jan 
found a French sailor of the wireless telegraphy, who 
had had typhoid fever, but was now going back 
to work. As we rattled down the curves and along 
the edge of the darkening chasms of the mountain 
side, he summed up with the brevity of a " rapin." 
" Dans la journee ici, vous savez, il y'a de quoi 
faire des chches." 

We stopped at Rieka for water, and then on 
once more. In the glare of our headhghts, little 
clumps of soldiers, with donkeys loaded with the 
new uniforms, loomed suddenly out of the dark- 
ness. Once a donkey took fright and bolted back, 
and the soldier in charge yelled and pointed his 
rifle at us. If we had moved he would have shot 
without compunction. Later the men had bivou- 
acked, and all along the rest of the road we passed 
little fires of fresh brushwood, the sparks pouring 
up hke fountains into the night, round which the 
soldiers and drivers were sitting and singing their 
weird songs. 

At Podgoritza we found Dr. Lihas Hamilton at 
supper with her staff. She has had rather a hard 
time. The hospital was intended for Ipek, but 



POD 125 

for some reason, although there were wounded 
in the town, the Montenegrins decided to move 
it to Podgoritza, where there were none. After a 
diflGicult journey across the mountains they settled 
down, but could never get sufficient transport from 
the Government to bring their stores over, except 
in small quantities. They started to work, but 
as there were few soldiers to treat. Dr. Lihas, being 
a lady, interested herself in the Turkish female 
population, a thing which the Montenegrins thought 
a criminal waste of time, and tried to stop. 

We got a bedroom in the hotel, and tired out, 
tried to sleep ; but the occupants of the cafe began 
a set of howhng songs, very unmusical, and kept 
us awake till past twelve. We have never heard 
this kind of singing anywhere else. 

Next day we crossed the river and explored the 
quaint and beautiful streets of the Turkish quarter. 
The people are equally offensive on both sides of the 
town ; however, Podgoritza seems to be the White- 
chapel of Montenegro — and we finally had to take 
refuge in the sheds of the French wireless telegraphy. 
The commandant at the motor depot again treated 
us rudely, but the Prefect was nice, this time. He 
promised us a carriage on the morrow if no motor 
were forthcoming. 

After supper the people began the awful howhng 
songs ; also there was a wild orchestra which had 



126 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

one clarinet for melody and about ten deep bass 
trumpets for accompaniment. 

Next morning no carriage came, so ofi to the 
Prefect. He promised one " odmah," wbich being 
translated is "at once," but means really within 
" eight or nine hours." We waited. Nine a.m. 
passed. Ten a.m. went by. A small boy sneaked 
up and tried to sell some contraband tobacco ; but 
Jan had just bought " State." An angry Turkish 
gentleman came and said that his horses had been 
requisitioned to take us to Andrievitza, and that 
we weren't going to get them till one o'clock, 
because he was using them. We returned to the 
Prefect, not to complain — oh no — but to ask him 
to telegraph to Andrievitza that we were coming. 
He was naturally surprised to see us again, and 
explanations followed. A very humbled and much 
better tempered Turk came to the cafe to say that 
the horses would be with us " odmah." 

A drizzle had been falhng all the morning ; at 
last the carriage came. Our driver was a wretched 
half-starved, high-cheeked Moslem in rags, whose 
trousers were only made draught proof by his 
sitting on the holes. He tried to squeeze another 
passenger upon us ; but we were wiser, and were 
just not able to understand what he was saying. 
Our Turk's method of driving was to tie the reins 
to the carriage rail, flourishing a whip and shouting 



A HALT 127 

with vigour ; every ten minutes he glanced uneasily 
backwards to see that nothing had broken loose or 
come away. 

The valley we entered had been very deep, but 
at some period had been half filled by a deposit of 
sand and pebble which had hardened into a crumb- 
Hng rock. We were driving over the gravelly 
shelf, above our head rose walls of hmestone, and 
deep below was the river which had eaten the 
softer agglomerate into a hundred fantastic 
caverns. All along the road we passed groups 
of tramping volunteers fresh from America with 
store clothes and suitcases ; the sensible were 
also festooned with boots. It was pretty cold 
sitting in the carriage, and it grew colder as we 
mounted. 

At last we halted to rest the horses at a cafe. 
The influence of " Pod " was heavy still. A group 
of grumpy people were sitting around a fire built 
in the middle of the floor ; they did not greet us — ■ 
which is unusual in Montenegro — ^but continued the 
favourite Serb recreation of spitting. In the centre 
of them was an old man on a chair, also expectorat- 
ing, and by his side one older and scraggier, his 
waistcoat covered with snuff and medals, palpitated 
in a state of senile decay, holding in a withered hand 
a palmfuU of snuff which he had forgotten to inhale. 
There were a lot of women saying nothing and 



128 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

spitting. A sour, hard-faced woman admitted that 
there was coffee. 

Jo, trying to cheer things up a bit, said brightly — 
" Is it far to Andrievitza ? " 
A woman mumbled, " Far, bogami." 
Jo again : " It is cold on the road." 
A long silence, broken with the sound of spitting, 
followed. At last a woman in the darkest corner 
murmured — 

" Cold, bogami." 

It was Hke the opening of a Maeterhnckian play, 
but we gave it up, sipped our coffee, and when we 
had finished, fled outside into the cold which, after 
all, was warmer than these people's welcome. 
Outside we met a young man who spoke German, 
and as he wanted to show off, he stopped to con- 
verse. We were joined by an older man who 
claimed to be his father. The father was really 
a jolly old boy. He said his son was a puny 
weakhng, but as for himself he never had had a 
doctor in his hfe. So Jan tried his mettle with a 
cigar. An officer, a filthy old peasant in the remains 
of a battered uniform, joined the group, but he was 
not charming ; however, Jan offered him a cigarette. 
The old yokel rushed on his fate. He said — • 

" Cigarettes are all very well ; but I would 
rather have one of those you gave to the other 
fellow." 



LIEVA EIEKA 129 

The road wound on and up in the usual way, 
rain came down at intervals, and it grew colder and 
colder. At last we extracted all our spare clothes 
from the knapsack and put them on. We reached 
the top of the pass and began to rattle down the 
descent on the further side, and we kept our spirits 
up, in the growing gloom, by singing choruses: 
" The old Swanee river " and " Uncle Ned." 

We pulled up at dusk at a dismal hovel, on 
piles, with rickety wooden stairs leading to a dimly 
hghted balcony over which fell deep wooden eaves. 

" Is this Jabooka ? " we asked, for we had been 
told to ahght at Jabooka. 

** No," said the driver ; *' we cannot reach 
Jabooka to-night. But here are fine beds, fine, 
fine, fine ! " 

We climbed in. The rooms were whitewashed 
and looked all right, but there was a funny smell. 
We shall know what it means a second time. There 
was a crowd of American Montenegrin volunteers 
in the kitchen. One gay fellow was in a bright green 
dressing-gown Hke overcoat : he said that his wife 
— a hard-featured woman who looked as if nobody 
loved her — ^had brought his saddle horse. We got 
some hard-boiled eggs and maize bread. Maize 
bread is always a Httle gritty, for it has in its sub- 
stance no binding material, but when it is well 
cooked and has plenty of crust is quite eatable. 

K 



130 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGKO 

French cooking is far away, however, and the bread 
is usually a sort of soggy, half-baked flabby paste, 
most unpalatable and most indigestible. Here was 
the worst bread we yet had found. 

They took us down a dark passage, in which 
huge lumps of raw meat hanging from the walls 
struck one's hand with a chill, flabby caress as one 
passed. In our room, four benches were arranged 
into a pair of widish couches ; mattresses were given 
us and coarse hand-woven rugs. We were then 
left. But we could not sleep; somehow Hce were 
in one's mind, and at last Jan awoke and ht the tiny 
oil lamp. He immediately slew a bug; then another ; 
then a whopper ; then one escaped ; then Jo got 
one. In desperation we got up, smeared ourselves 
with paraffin, and lay down again in a dismal 
distressed doze till morning. 

Our driver was a dilatory dog : we had said that 
we would leave at five a.m., and at six he was 
washing his teeth in the httle stream which acted 
as the village sewer. As we were waiting our 
green-coated friend got away on his saddle horse, 
with his wife walking at its tail ; the other 
Americans cHmbed into a great three-horse waggon, 
dragged their suit-cases after them, and off they 
went. We left nearer seven than six. The air 
was chilly, and though there were bits of blue in 
the'sky, the hills were floating in mist, and there 



JABOOKA 131 

was a sharp shower. There were more groups of 
Americans trudging along, and also a fair number of 
peasants, the women, as usual, dignified and beauti- 
ful. Very hungry we at last came to Jabooka. 
A jolly woman — we were getting away from 
" Pod " — welcomed us and dragged us into the 
kitchen. She asked Jo many questions, one being, 
" What relation is he to you, that man with whom 
you travel ? " The fire on the floor was nearly 
out, but she rained sticks on to it, blew up the great 
central log, which is the backbone, into a blaze, 
and soon the smoke was pouring into our eyes and 
filtering up amongst the hams in the roof. We 
were drinking a splendid cafe au lait when an old 
woman peered in at the door. 

" Very beautiful Jabooka," she said. 

We agreed heartily. 

" Not dear either," she said. 

We expressed surprise. 

" You can buy cheap," she went on. 

We regretted that we did not wish to. 

" But you must eat to live," she protested. 

We intimated that this was of the nature of a 
truism, but failed to see the connection. 

" But look at them," she expostulated, holding 
out a large basket of apples; and we suddenly 
remembered that " Jabooka " means also apples, 
and realized that she was not a land agent. 



132 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

Then on once more. In tlie deep valleys were 
large modern sawmills, but the houses were ever 
poor, and the windows grew smaller and smaller 
and were without glass. At the junction of the 
Kolashin road, from the north, we picked up a 
jolly Montenegrin with a big dog. He was a 
driver by profession, and he hurried our lethargic 
progress a Httle. Then the front spring broke. 
It was mended with wire and a piece of tree ; 
when we started again the reins snapped. 

We halted once more at a cafe filled with 
Americans ; some had only left their native land 
six months agone, yet to the peasant they were all 
*' Americans." Some of them seemed very dis- 
satisfied with the reception which they had received, 
and we don't wonder. " In Ipek I coulden get 
my room," said one, " tho' I 'ad wired for 't, 
'cause one o' them 'airy popes [Greek priests] 'ad 
come wid 'is fambly. I 'ad to sleep hke a 'og, 
you fellers, jess Hke a 'og." We had been under 
the impression that burning patriotism had called 
all these men back to their country, but one sturdy 
fellow disabused us. 

" No, you fellers," he said, " there weren't no 
work for us in 'Murrica. Mos' o' the places 'ad 
closed down ter a shift or two at the mos' per wik. 
And fer fellers wats used to livin' purty well there 
weren't enough ter pay board alone. We gotter 



DOWN TO ANDRIEVITZA 133 

come or we'd a starved." Of course this was not 
true of many. 

On again, rain and sun alternating, but still 
we were cold, feet especially. 

These mountains, these continual groups of 
slouching, slouch-hatted " Americans," these httle 
weathered log cabins, falHng streams, and pine 
trees reminded one of some tale of Bret Harte, 
and one found one's self expecting the sudden 
appearance of Broncho Billy or Jack HamUn 
mounted upon a fiery mustang. But we cleared 
the top of the pass without meeting either, and 
started on our last long downhill to Andrievitza. 
Cheered by the rapidity of our motion the two 
ruffians on the box started a howHng Podgoritzian 
kind of melody, exceedingly discordant. The 
driver, careless that one of our springs was but 
wired tree, and that wheels in Montenegro are 
easily decomposed, flogged his horses unmerci- 
fully, ratthng along the extreme edge of one 
hundred foot precipices. "We stopped at a cafe 
for the driver to get coffee ; rattled on again, 
stopped to inquire the price of hay ; more rattle ; 
stopped for the driver to say, " How de doo " 
to a pal ; more rattle ; stopped to ask a man 
if his dog has had puppies yet. . . . But we 
protested. 

Andrievitza was the prettiest village we had yet 



134 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

seen in Montenegro, and was full of more " Ameri- 
cans." In the street a small boy urged us to go to 
" Radoikovitches," but we went to the hotel. 
The hotel was full, because a Pasha from Scutari 
had arrived with his three wives, and all their 
families. So we permitted the httle yellow-haired 
urchin to lead us to " Radoikovitches." A woman 
received us, without gusto, till she learned that 
Jo was Jan's wife, when she cheered up. A charming 
old officer stood rakia all round in our honour. The 
mayor came in to greet us, and we felt that at 
last Pod had been pushed behind for ever. 

The mayor was a pleasant fellow, speaking 
French, and he confided in us that he was suffering 
from a " maladie d'estomac." When we thought 
we had sympathized enough, we asked him how 
far it was, and could we have horses to go to Fetch. 
He answered that it was two days, or rather one and 
a half, and that the horses would await us at twelve 
on the following day. We went to bed early to 
make up for last night, but Jan, having felt rather 
tickly all day, hunted the corners of his shirt and 
found — dare we mention it — a louse, souvenir de 
Lieva Rieka. 

As we were breakfasting next day our driver, 
who had been most unpleasant the whole time, 
sidled up and asked Jan to sign a paper. While 
Jan was doing so the driver burst into a. volley of 



A HAREM EN VOYAGE 135 

explanations. We thought that he was asking 
for a tip, but made out that he had lost (or gambled) 
the ten kronen which his employer had given to 
him for expenses. We had intended to give him 
no tip, for on the yesterday he had refused to carry 
our bags, but this made us waver. We asked 
Mr. Rad, etc., what we should do. 

" Sign his paper," he answered gruffly, " and 
kick him out ; he's only a dirty Turk anyhow." 

The mayor sent our horses round early ; but we 
stuck to our decision to start in the afternoon, and 
ordered lunch at twelve. There was a huge crowd 
gathered in front of the inn, and we saw that the 
Pasha and his harem were off. One wife wore a 
blue furniture cover over her, one a green, and one 
a brown, so that he might know them apart from 
the outside, for they all had heavy black veils 
before their faces. The Pasha himself seemed 
rather a decent fellow, and had much of the air of 
a curate conducting a school feast. Four children 
were thrust into two baskets which were slung on 
each side of one small horse, and various furm'ture, 
including a small bath (or large basin), was strapped 
on to others, and the Pasha followed by his wives 
set off walking, the Pasha occasionally throwing a 
graceful remark behind him. 

The mayor lunched with us, and for a man who 
has, as he says, anaemia of the stomach, chronic 



136 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

dysentery, and inflammation of the intestines, he 
ate most freely, and if such is his daily habit, he 
deserved all he had got. 

Our guide was the most picturesque we have 
yet had. He was an Albanian with a shaven poll 
save for a tuft by which the angels will one day 
hft him to heaven, small white cap like a saucer, 
over which was wound a twisted dirty white scarf, 
short white coat heavily embroidered with black 
braid, tight trousers, also heavily embroidered, but 
the waistband only pulled up to where the buttock 
begins to sHde away — ^we wondered continuously 
why they never fell off^ — and the long space between 
coat and trousers filled with tightly wound red 
and orange belt. He called himself Ramases, or 
some such name. Our saddles were pretty good, 
the stirrups hke shovels, the horses the best (barring 
at the Front) we had had since Prepolji. 

We rode over a creaky bridge, Jan's horse 
refusing, so he went through the river, and out into 
the new road which is being made to Ipek. Men 
and women, almost all in Albanian costumes, were 
scraping, digging, drilling and blasting; some of 
the women wore a costume we had not yet seen, 
very short cotton skirt above the knees, and long, 
embroidered leggings. We passed this high-road 
*' in posse " and, the httle horses stepping along, 
presently caught up a trail of donkeys, the 



VELIKA 137 

proprietor of which, a friend of Kamases, had a 
face Hke a post-impressionist sculpture. 

We passed the donkeys and came to the usual 
sort of cafe, rough log hut, fire on floor — ^but one 
of the women therein gave Jo her only apple — 
decidedly we were away from Pod. 

On again along river valleys. Jan's saddle 
had a knob in the seat that began to insinuate. 
On every hill were cut maize patches, the 
red stubble in the sunset looking hke fields of 
blood. 

In the dusk we came to Vehka, a wooden 
witchhke village, where we were to stay the night, 
and where, as we had expected, the Pasha, ten 
minutes ahead of us, had commandeered all the 
accommodation. The captain, however, was very 
good, and gave us a pohceman to find lodgings for 
us. By this time it was dark. He led us into a 
pitch black lane where the mud came over our 
boots, then we clambered up a loose earth chff and 
stood looking into a room whose only fight was 
from a small fire, as usual on the floor. Over the 
fire was a large pot, and a meagre-faced woman was 
stirring the brew. Behind her a small baby in a 
red and white striped blanket was pushed up to 
its armpits through a hole on four legs, where it 
hung. In a dark corner a small boy was worrying 
a black cat. 



138 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

" Can you give these English a bed ? " demanded 
the policeman. 

The woman shook her head sadly. *' Mozhe," 
she said, which means " It is possible." 

After supper, Bovril and cheese omelette, we 
went out to seek the cafe. We trudged back 
through the mud and stumbled into a house full 
of lattice work, Hke a Chinese store. Startled we 
tried another. This time we came into a stable, 
but there was a ladder leading upwards, and at the 
top a hghted room, so we decided to explore. 
We chmbed up and came into a large loft in which 
six long legged, heavily bearded Albanians were 
squatting about a fire; a gipsy woman with wild 
tousled hair and hanging breasts was in the corner 
of the hearth, and was telhng some long mono- 
tonous tale. An Albanian, who spoke Serb, told 
us to come in and have coffee. It was Hke the 
illustration of some tale from the Arabian Nights. 
After a while we climbed out again into the night, 
and went home. Ramases hung about shyly, and 
the woman explained that he had nowhere to 
sleep ; so we arranged that she should house him 
also. 

Even as we poked our noses out of the door 
there was a promise of a fine day. Below us we could 
see the Pasha up and superintending the packing 
of his family and furniture. We celebrated by 



THE TRAIL 139 

opening our last tin of jam, which we had carried 
carefully all the way, waiting for an occasion. 
We left the remains of the jam for the small family, 
and as we were mounting we saw their faces 
smeared and streaked with "First Quahty Damson." 
We started the climb almost at once. The early 
morning smoke filtering through the slats made 
an outer cone, of faint blue, above the black roof of 
every hut and cottage ; here and there were traces 
of roadmaking, groups of Albanian workmen on 
stretches of levelled earth which our trail crossed 
at irregular intervals. Presently we entered the 
clouds, and were wrapped about with a thin mist 
faintly smelling of smoke. After a while we 
chmbed above them, and looking down could see 
the clouds motthng all the landscape, and through 
holes httle patches of sunht field or wood peering 
through Hke the eyes of a Turkish woman through 
her yashmak. 

Our horses panted and sweated up the long 
and arduous slope for two mortal hours, up and 
ever up ; but all things come to an end, and at last 
we reached the top. We sat down to rest our 
weary animals and, lo! by us passed long strings of 
mules and ponies bearing the very benzine about 
which so much fuss had been made in Cettinje. 
Alas for our reputations as miracle workers ! Had 
this blessed stufi only come a week later we should 



140 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

even have passed in Montenegro as first cousins 
of the king at least ; but this was a Httle too prompt. 

There was landscape enough here for any 
budding Turners, but we two had still eight hours 
to go and not money enough to loiter. On the 
higher peaks of the mountains there was aheady 
a fresh powdering of snow ; in the valleys the 
clouds had almost cleared away, leaving a thin 
film of moisture which made shadows of pure 
ultramarine beneath the trees. Your modern com- 
mercial grinder cannot sell you this colour, it 
needs some of that pure jewel powder which old 
Swan kept in a bottle for use on his masterpiece, but 
found never a subject noble enough. Some of 
that stuff prepared from the receipt of old Cennino 
Cennini which ends " this is a work, fine and 
dehcate, suitable for the hands of young maidens, 
but beware of old women." Pure Lapis LazuH. 

But it became difficult even for us to admire 
landscape, for breakfast had disappeared within 
us, and lunch seemed far away, so once more 
recourse to the " compressed luncheon." There 
are three stages in the taste of the " Tabloid." 
Stage one, when it smacks of glue ; stage two, when 
it has a flavour of inferior beef tea, say 11.30 a.m. ; 
stage three, when it resembles nothing but the 
gravy of the most dehcious beef steak. That is 
about 2.30, and your lunch some hours in retard. 



ALBANIAN CAFES 141 

We had reached stage three, and even Jo succumbed 
to the charms of the " Tab." 

Famished we came to a cafe. 

" Eggs ? " we gasped to the host. 

" Nema " (haven't got any), he rephed. 

" Milk ? " 

" Nema." 

" Cheese ? " crescendo. 

" Nema." 

" Bread ? " fortissimo. 

" Nema." 

Despairing we swallowed three more luncheon 
tablets each and whined for tea. Ramases, who 
seemed to get along on tea alone, promised us a 
well-stocked cafe in an hour and a half. 

The second cafe was purely Albanian. We 
chmbed up some rickety stairs into a room which 
had — strange to relate — a fireplace. About the 
room was a sleeping dais where three or four black 
and white ruffians were couched. There was a 
httle window with a deep seat into which we 
squeezed and loudly demanded eggs, bread and 
cheese. An old woman all rags and tatters came 
in and squeezed up alongside, where she crouched, 
spinning a long wool thread and staring up into 
Jo's face. Several cats were lounging about the 
room, but one came close and began to squirm as 
though she were " setting " a mouse. Suddenly 



142 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGKO 

she pounced, seized the old woman's food bag from 
her feet, swept it on to the floor, and disappeared 
with it beneath the dais, where all the rest of the 
cats followed. The old woman, who had been 
plying distaff and spindle the while, let out a yell 
of fury and half disappeared beneath the platform. 
We all roared with laughter, while beneath us the 
cats spat and the old woman cursed, beating about 
with the handle of her distaff till she had rescued 
her dinner. She backed out with the bag, sat 
down again and started spinning once more as 
though nothing had happened. 

Beyond this cafe the track became very stony 
and rough. We passed a typical couple. The 
man was carrying a Hght bag full of bottles, while 
the women had on her back a huge wooden chest, 
in which things rattled and bumped as she stumped 
along. 

Jo looked at her with pity. " That's heavy,'' 
she said. 

The woman stared stupidly and answered 
nothing ; but the man smiled and said — 

" Yes, heavy. Bogami." 

We passed more caravans of that all too soon 
benzine. Chffs began to tower up on every side, 
and precipices to fall away beneath our feet to a 
greenish roaring torrent; great springs spouted 
from the rocks and dashed down upon the stones 



THE CANYON 143 

below in shredded foam : one was pink in colour. 
Here once a general and his lady were riding, and the 
lady's horse sHpped. The general grasped her 
but lost his own balance, and both fell into the river 
and were killed. The track wound up and down, 
often very shppery underfoot, and the horses, shod 
with the usual flat plates of iron, were sHthering and 
sliding on the edge of the precipices. At last we 
got ofi and walked. It was an immense relief : 
our saddles were intensely hard, stirrups unequal 
lengths, and with knots which rubbed unmercifully 
on the shins. We passed a man who was evidently 
an Enghshman, and he stared at us as we passed, 
but neither stopped. The gorge grew deeper, the 
stream more rapid. The chffs towered higher, 
black and grey in huge perpendicular stripes. We 
heard sounds of thunder or of blasting which 
reverberated in the canyon ; it was oppressive and 
gloomy, and one shuddered to think what it would 
be Hke if an earthquake occurred. The chffs 
ceased abruptly in a huge grass slope on which 
crowds of people were working on the new road ; 
we crossed the river over a wooden bridge. 

We came down into Ipek suddenly, past the 
old orange towered monastery, which Hes, its outer 
walls half buried, keeping the landshdes at bay. 
Ramases, who had suddenly put on another air, 
flung his leg over the saddle — ^he had previously 



144 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO 

been sitting sideways — and twisted his moustache 
skywards. Jo wished to canter on, but he sternly 
forbade her, flipping her horse on the nose and 
driving it back when she tried to pass ; for it would 
have damned his manly dignity for ever had a 
woman preceded him. 

Our first view of Ipek was of a forest of minarets 
shooting up from the orchards, not a house was to 
be seen. Ramases tried to make us lodge in a 
vague looking building. We asked him if that were 
the best hotel. He answered nonchalantly, " Nes- 
nam " (don't know) ; so we hunted for ourselves, 
discovering in the main square a blue house labelled 
" Hotel Skodar " in large letters. 




CHAPTER XI 

IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAEEM 

We entered the courtyard of the inn. Tiny as it 
was all Ipek seemed to be plucking poultry in it. 
An urbane old woman came forward, evidently the 
owner. She had short arms, and her hair grey at 
the roots was stained with henna, which matched her 
eyes. A dog fancier once told us never to buy a 
dog with Hght-coloured eyes if we wanted a trustful 
loving nature, so we wondered if it appHed to 
humans. 

She showed us a tiny dungeon-Hke room entirely 
filled up by two beds. We were not impressed; 
but she assured us that we should have a large 
beautiful room the next day for the same price. 
So we engaged it and strolled out into the 
evening. 

Bufialoes were sitting in couples round the big 
square. They chewed the cud with an air of 
incomparable wisdom so remote from the look of 
reproachful misery that is generally worn by an ox. 
Goats came in from the hills with their hair clipped 

145 L 



146 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

in layers, which gave them the appearance of ladies 
in five- decker skirts ; and children were playing a 
queer game. They jumped loosely round in circles 
with bent knees, making a whooping-cough noise 
followed by a splutter. We saw it often afterwards, 
and decided that it must be the equivalent to our 
*' Ring o' Roses." 

Work was over for the day, the sun set behind 
the hills which ringed us round, and we went to 
kill time in a cafe. 

While we were exchanging coffees with an 
" American," who was showing us the excellences 
of his wooden leg which he had made himself, a 
breathless man ran in. 

He had been searching the town for us. The 
governor had ordered him to put us up, as his had 
the notoriety of being a clean house. Having 
taken a room already with the amiable old lady 
we feared to disappoint her, so we decided not to 
move. The man piteously hoped that we were not 
offended ; and we explained at length. 

When we reached the hotel again our old hostess 
bustled up, more sugary than ever. 

*' We have just thought of a Httle rearrange- 
ment," she said. 

" How so ? " 

" Well, do you imderstand, the inn is very 
full to-night, so we thought it best that you should 



MAKKO PETROVITCH 147 

both take the one bed and I and my daughter will 
take the other." 

" Oh/' said we, *' in that case we had better 
move altogether, we have anoth — — " 

" Indeed, no no," said the old lady, horrified. 
** Stay, stay. There sit down. It is good, keep 
your beds." She patted us and left us. 

We had an uninspired dinner. Greasy soup, 
tough boiled meat which had produced the soup, 
minced boiled meat in pepper pods, and two pears 
which turned out to be bad. The company, 
composed of officers and nondescripts, pleased us 
no better than the dinner, so we decided to eat 
elsewhere on the morrow. 

The governor's secretary came in to arrange 
for an interview with his chief — yet another 
Petrovitch and brother to the governor of Scutari. 
By this time we had each imbibed a dozen Turkish 
coffees during the day, but we slept for all that 
from nine until nine in the morning. 

Marko Petrovitch, whom we saw early, was the 
best and last Petrovitch we met in Montenegro. 
Like all the Petrovitches he wore national costume. 
He was handsome, shy, and kindly, said we must 
go to Dechani the most famous of Balkan monas- 
teries, and promised us a cart for the journey. 

After leaving the governor we plunged into 
melodrama. 



148 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAEEM 

Hearing a noise we discovered crowds of weeping 
women and children round the steps of a shop. A 
young man in French fireman's uniform seemed to 
be very active, and an old trousered woman 
passively rolled down the steps after receiving a 
box on the ears. 

We thought it was a pohceman arresting an 
elderly thief; but Jo, seeing blood on the lady's 
face, told him he was a " bad man." He lurched, 
staring at her stupidly. His companions, more 
firemen, came forward grinning sheepishly, and we 
recommended them to lead him away out of mis- 
chief. But the next minute a balloon-trousered 
child rushed up to us and tugged at Jan's coat. 

" Quick, the devil man is doing more bad things." 

We ran down the road beyond the village and saw 
him in the distance dancing on an old Turk's bare 
feet with hobnailed boots, alternating this amuse- 
ment with cuffs on the face. We sprinted along, 
and seeing a convenient Httle river wrigghng along 
by the roadside, Jan caught him by the neck and 
the seat of his trousers, swung him round, and 
pitched him in. The man sat for a moment, 
bewildered, in the water, and then cHmbed out 
uttering dreadful oaths ; but as he came up Jan 
knocked him into the water again. 

Men in firemen's uniforms appeared from all 
sides, shouting — 



HOTEL EUKOPE 149 

" What are you doing ? You mustn't. Who 
are you ? " 

" We know the governor," said Jo. The men 
were making gestures of deference when the repro- 
bate rushed from the river, aiming a whirHng blow 
at Jan which missed. 

The men hurled themselves on him, but he 
grabbed Jan's coat to which he clung, howhng in 
unexpected EngHsh — 

" Shake 'ands wi' y' ennemi." Suddenly 
everybody spoke EngHsh, and we wondered into 
what sort of a fairy tale had we fallen. 

It was lunch time so we did not stay for ex- 
planations, but hurried back to the town with the 
weeping old Turk, gave him our small change, 
which seemed to cure the pains in his feet, and 
hunted for the other hotel. 

It was tucked away in a romantic back street. 
The bar room was tiny, but it was very pleasant 
to sit round httle tables under shady trees in the 
courtyard. 

" What have you for lunch ? " we asked a sohd- 
looking waiter boy. 

" Nema Ruchak, bogami." We have no lunch. 
We looked at all the other people absorbing meat 
and soup. 

'' Grive us what you have." 

" We have nothing, bogami," 



150 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

" Have you soup ? " 

" Yes, bogami." 

''And cheese?" 

" Ima, ima, bogami." 

" That will do for us." 

He thereupon brought macaroni soup, boiled 
meat, roast meat, fried potatoes, cheese, grapes, 
and coffee. 

We never found out why in Montenegro they 
should make it a point of honour to say they have 
nothing. It resembles the Chinese habit of alluding 
to a " loathsome " wife and a " disgusting " 
daughter. 

After lunch we visited our own hotel and found 
mine hostess waiting for us with her short arms 
akimbo. She wanted the "beautiful large bedroom" 
to which we had moved in the morning, finding it 
the same size as the one below, but rather fighter. 
Its former occupant had arrived, and we were to 
go back to the dungeon. 

" That is not good," said Jo, and we flatly 
refused to go downstairs. 

" If we leave this room we go altogether." 

She again patted us and begged us to consider 
the matter closed. We could stick to the room. 

Certainly that dog fancier was right. 

There was a very old monastery which we had 
passed as we rode into Ipek. 



IPEK MONASTERY 151 

Although we are more interested in the people 
of the present than in ruins of the past, these old 
Serbian monuments leave so strange a memory of 
a civilization suddenly cut off at its zenith that they 
have an emotional appeal far apart from that of 
archaeology. These little oases of culture pre- 
served amongst a wilderness of Turk tempt the 
traveller with a romance which is now vanishing 
from Roman and Greek ruins. 

The Ipek monastery is a beautiful old place 
with the walls half buried on one side. The old 
church, orange outside, is very dark within, but 
contains many beautiful paintings. Surely here is 
the home of Post Impressionism and of Futurism. 
The decorations of the bases of the pillars are quite 
futuristic even orpeistic. 

The pictures are Byzantine. But the Turks 
have picked out the eyes, as they always do. 
One enormous painting of a head which filled a 
semicircle over a door is particularly fine. Most 
halos are round, but the painter had deemed the 
ears and beard worthy of extra bulges in this saint's 
halo, which added to the decorative effect. 

Beautiful apple trees were dotted about the big 
garden through which the wriggly river ran. Ducks, 
geese and turkeys wandered around, so fat that they 
were indifferent to the meal that was being served 
out to them. A boy woke up the mother of a 



152 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

family of young turkeys and pushed her towards 
the dinner with his foot. She hurried there in- 
voluntarily and sat down for a nap with her back 
to the plate, the picture of outraged dignity. 

"We got into conversation with a priest, who 
insisted we should call upon the archbishop. The 
Metropohtan was a cheery soul, wearing a Monte- 
negrin pork-pie hat very much on one side, and black 
riding breeches which showed as his long robes 
fluttered during his many gesticulations. 

While with him we lost the impression that we 
were living in the unreal times of the Eose and the 
Ring. He was intensely civihzed, spoke French 
excellently, and had many a good story of his life 
in Constantinople and other places. For the 
EngHsh he had great affection. The last English- 
man in Ipek, a king's messenger, had flown to the 
monastery to escape from the Hotel Europe and 
its bugs. The next morning he would not get up. 
The archbishop went to his room to remonstrate. 

" No, no," said he ; "I spent two nights under a 
ceihng which rained bugs upon me, and I know a 
good bed when I've got it." 

Coffee and cigarettes came in, of the best, and 
the rakia was a thing apart from the acrid stuff we 
were accustomed to. 

He admitted its superiority. The plums came 
from his own estate, and were distilled by the monks. 



NIKOLA PAVLOVITCH 153 

The great difficulty was to prevent him from giving 
us too much. 

We talked of the war, and he related many- 
atrocities, winding up with " Of course, England 
must win ; but what will become of us in the mean- 
while ? " 

That evening we had a visitor. A very large 
Montenegrin in French fireman's uniform knocked 
at the door. He said his name was Nikola 
Pavlovitch. He had been sent by the governor to 
apologise for the " trouble " Jan had had that 
morning with the drunken soldier. 

" 'E in jail now, 'e verry sorry and say if you 
forgive 'im, mister, 'e never touch rakia, never no 
more. 'E good chap reely. Got too much rakia 
this mornin'. 'E think about Turks an' get kinder 
mad some'ow. 'E don't know what 'e done ; first 
thing 'e knows 'e finds 'imself in river." 

Nikola Pavlovitch was, though not an officer, 
the commandant of a contingent of miners from 
America. The governor had told him also to offer 
himself as cicerone for the morrow, the cart having 
been ordered for our trip to Dechani. 

We didn't hke cicerones and demurred. 

*' I kin talk for you," he said. But we owned 
to speaking Serb. 

" I know all de country, kin tell you things ; 
bin 'ere twenty years ago," 



154 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

We saw he wanted to come, and noticed that 
he had a very hkable face, strong features, straight 
kindly eyes. We reahzed that he would be a very 
pleasant companion and arranged to meet at the 
stable the next day. 

And so, at last, we drove in one of the queer 
little Serb carts we had avoided so anxiously. A 
few planks nailed together and bound around with 
an insecure rail, four wheels shpped on to the axles 
with no pins to hold them, a Turkish driver 
dangHng his legs — such was our chariot. Some hay 
was produced to improvise a seat ; we bought some 
apples on tick, as the vendor said he had no change 
for our one shilhng note, and off we drove. 

Nikola Pavlovitch started yarning almost at 
once, and we never had a dull moment. He was 
a comitaj once, in the old days when Turkey owned 
Macedonia and the Sanjak. He said that nearly 
all comitaj were men of education and intelhgence. 
When Turkish rule became oppressive, when too 
many Christian girls were stolen and vanished 
for ever into harems, the comitaj appeared, farms 
were raided, minute but fierce battles were fought ; 
but in spite of this continual supervision, occa- 
sional and mysterious murders were needed to 
keep down the excesses of the Turk. 

Pavlovitch waved a hand towards the sullen 
mountains of Albania, which were on our right. 



ALBANIA 155 

" Dose Swabs don' tink o' nuttin' but killin', 
Jess ornary slaughter, Mister Jim. Now dat Jako- 
vitza [a town to the south] dat don't mean nuttin 
but * blood' in their talk, 'lots o' blood' dat's what it 
means. Sure. Dese peoples don' respect nuttin 
but kilHn' ; an' when you've done in 'bout fifty 
other fellers you'r reckoned a almighty tough. If 
you wanted to voyage dere, f 'r instance, you'd 'ave 
ter get a promise o' peace, a * Besa ' they calls it, 
from one of dese tough fellers, and he makes 'imself 
responsible to end any feller wat disturbs you ; 'e 
can post a babby along o' you and so long as the 
kiddie's wid yer nobody'll touch you. Dats so, 
Mister Jim, you bleeve me. But all de same, 
dey've fixed it up so's dis kilhng business ain't 
perhte wen deres women about, so every feller 
taks 'is wife along 'o 'im so's not to be ended 
right away." 

Every house by the roadside was a fortress, 
loopholes only in the ground floor, windows peering 
from beneath the eaves and turrets with gunshts 
at the second story ; here and there were old 
Turkish blockhouses, solid and square, showing 
how the conquerors had feared the conquered. 

" One o' dese tough fellers 'e kill more'n 
hundred fellers. Great chief 'e is. Wen 'e was 
sixteen 'is fader get condemned ter prison way in 
Mitrovitza. Dis young tough 'e walk inter court 



156 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

nex' day, in 'e kill de judge and two of de officers 
and 'scape inter de mountains." 

Nick himself when he was a comitaj had twice 
been caught by the Turks. Once he was shot in 
thirteen places at once, but was found by some 
Christian women and eventually recovered ; the 
second time the Turks beat him almost to death 
with fencing staves, and though they thought him 
dying put him on an ox cart and sent him to the 
interior of Turkey. 

"I was ravin' mad dat journey," he said. "I 
don' want ter go ter 'ell if it's hke dat." 

They put him in hospital and treated him 
kindly ; but once better they threw him into a 
Turkish gaol. He described how the prison was 
dark as night, because the poorer prisoners blocked 
up the windows, stretching their arms through for 
doles from the passers-by. 

" We was all eaten wi' Uce," he went on, '* an' 
if de folks 'adn't sent me money an' food I'd a starved 
to def, sure. 'N den dey bribes de governor 'n a 
soldier, 'n dey lets me 'scape." 

He lay a cripple in Montenegro six months, but 
in the summer crawled down to the Bocche de 
Cattaro and on the sweltering shores of the Adriatic 
built himseK a primitive sweat bath. In a few 
weeks he was better, and in a few months cured. 
He then went to the mines in America, for he dared 



DECHANI 157 

not return to Macedonia. He saved £800 and 
returned with it to his sister's in Serbia, but was 
so oppressed by the misery about him that he gave 
away all his money and went back. 

" Dere's lots a mineral in dese mountains, you 
feller. I show you one lump feller got a' Ipek, an' 
I guess it's silver, sure. Wen de war over you come 
back an' we'll go over dem places tergedder. Dere's 
coal too. Lots." 

He told us that the wretched skeleton who was 
driving us had power in Turkish days to com- 
mandeer the services of Christian labourers, and to 
pay them nothing. 

We passed by placid fields containing cows, 
horses, donkeys. The country seemed untouched 
by war. Those cows could never have drawn 
heavy carts and lain exhausted and foodless after 
a heavy day's work. The horses reminded one of 
the sleek mares owned by old ladies who lived in 
awe of their coachmen. 

For this all belonged to Dechani, and it was 
beyond the power of the state to touch their riches ; 
nor had they been molested even in the days of 
Turkish rule. 

" You see, monastery 'e pay money to the 
toughest Albanians — Albanian they give besa — 
and nobody never do no 'arm to the monasteries. 
Russia she send much money, she send always her 



158 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAEEM 

priest to Dechani and the Turks they keep sorter 
respectful." 

Our first sight of Dechani disappointed us a 
little, the proportions lacked the beauty of the Ipek 
church ; but the big old door marked by the fire 
the Turks had built against it, decades before, 
cheered us up a bit. 

A pleasant priest with a smooth face and ringlets 
two feet long greeted us and led us to the little 
Russian hospital which was fitted into the Abbey, 
warning us not to bang our heads against the heavy 
oak beams in the corridors. 

The Russians welcomed us heartily, preparing 
the most wonderful tea, Austrahan butter, white 
bread made with flour brought from Russia. 

Pavlovitch enjoyed himself immensely. Food 
was thin in the barracks. But he was very worried 
about the priest's long ringlets. 

"I'd soon cure 'im, a month diggin' de trench ! " 
he murmured. 

After tea we examined the church. The interior 
was one miraculous blue : pictures with blue back- 
grounds, apostles with blue draperies, blue skies, a 
wonderful lapis lazuH. 

Once the Moslems had overpowered the defenders 
of the church and had got in, the eyes of some of 
the saints were picked through the plaster. Legend 
runs, however, that while they were desecrating 



DECHANI 159 

the tomb of Tzar Stephan who founded the church, 
the tomb of the queen, which lay alongside, ex- 
ploded with a violent report and terror struck the 
Turks, who fled. 

They showed us the queen's tomb, spHt from 
top to bottom. The priests naturally claim a 
miracle ; but Pavlovitch said, " I tink dey verry 
clever, dey done dat wi' gunpowder." 

The Tzar Stephan had wished to build the church 
of gold and precious stones, but a soothsayer said — 

" No, my lord, build it of plain stone, for your 
empire mil be robbed from you, and if it be of gold 
greedy men will tear it to pieces, but if it be of 
plain stone it will remain a monument for ever." 

So he built it of fine marble. The central 
pillars were forty feet high, and each cut from a 
single piece, with grotesque carved capitals. The 
great screen was wonderfully carved and gilded. 
Wherever one looked was decoration, almost in 
excess. 

Kinglets invited us to tea with the Russian 
bishop who was in charge. He was a stout, sweet- 
mannered little man, who shook his head woefully 
over the war. 

Somehow Pavlovitch discovered that he and 
the bishop were the same age, forty-eight. "We 
contrasted Pavlovitch's spare athletic frame 
with the well-fed shape of the bishop, and felt 



160 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

instinctively which was the better Christian. 
Coffee and slatka were brought in. This slatka 
is always handed to callers in well-regulated 
Serbian households. It is jam accompanied by 
many httle spoons and glasses of water. Each 
guest dips out a spoonful, Hcks the spoon, drinks the 
water, and places his spoon in the glass. There is 
also a curious custom with regard to the coffee. 
If a guest outstays his welcome, a second cup is 
brought in and ceremoniously placed before him — 
but, of course, this hint depends upon how it is 
done. 

" It is Friday," remarked Pavlovitch, regret- 
fully. " Odder days we gits mighty good meal." 
He was very anxious for us to stay the night so 
that we should fit in a first-class breakfast, but the 
morrow was the Ipek fair, and we could not miss 
that. 

Night was coming so we hurried off and drove 
away. The horses went quite fast, as we had made 
them a present of some barley. We had discovered 
that since the beginning of the war, when they had 
been requisitioned by the Montenegrin Govern- 
ment, they had Hved on nothing but hay, and the 
owner, who was driving them, said that they would 
soon die, and that when they did he would not 
receive a penny and would be a ruined man. He 
added pathetically — 



THE CAKPET MAKKET 161 

" One does not like to see one's beasts die like 
that, for after all one is fond of them." 

We arrived after dark, and ordered supper for 
three. The inn lady was scandaHzed. 

" But that is a common soldier," she said, 
" There are many fine folk in the dining-room, 
arrived to-day. The General " 

So we dined upon the landing. 

The next day we got up very early, went down 
to the dining-room and found it was full of sleeping 
forms ; we had coffee in our room. 

We wandered round the market. It was still 
too early, people were arriving and spreading their 
wares, men were hanging bright carpets on the white 
walls. Beggars were everywhere, exhibiting their 
gains in front of them. If one could understand 
they seemed to cry like this — 

" Ere y'are, the old firm ; put your generous 
money on the real thing. I 'as more misery to 
the square inch than any other 'as to the square 
yard." 

We found bargaining impossible, as they only 
spoke Albanian, and we could only get as far as 
" Sar," how much. 

Pavlovitch turned up later and was very helpful. 
We hurried him to a silver shop which was dis- 
playing a round silver boss. He beat them down 
from sixteen to ten dinars, after which we plunged 

M 



162 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

into a side street filled with women squatted cross- 
legged behind a collection of everything that an 
industrious woman who owns sheep can con- 
fection. 

" I have nothing for thee," said an old woman to 
Jo, who peered into her basket — ^Pavlovitch trans- 
lating. 

Jo withdrew a tiny pair of stockings — a marvel 
of knitting in many coloured patterns. 

'' "What about these ? " she said. 

" Hast thou children ? " 

" No ; but how much ? " said Jo. 

The price was four piastres. Jo gave four 
groschen and the old woman peered anxiously at 
the money in her palm. 

" It is too much," she said. 

Pavlovitch explained that somehow four gro- 
schen worked out to more than four piastres ; but 
we left her to calculate what fractions of a centime 
she had gained. 

Our old innkeeper looked very truculent when 
we entered. 

" Are you going to lunch here ? " 

*'No; we left word." 

" Then you can't stay here." 

We pointed out that her meals were bad and 
very dear. She retahated by making a fearful 
noise, and invited us to go and sleep at the Europe ; 




IN THE BAZAAR OF IPEK. 




STREET COFFEE SELLER IN IPEK. 



A HAREM 163 

but we remembered the Archbishop's story and 
stood firm. 

" If you don't leave us in peace we will appeal 
to the Governor." 

" Do, do. Go to the Governor," said the old 
lady, her little girl, a wry-mouthed charwoman and 
a little boy whom Jo had noticed stealing our 
cigarettes. The dog joined in and barked voci- 
ferously. 

We went to the Governor who was near by. 
" They don't understand innkeeping here, and she 
is a drunken old slut," he said, and sent for her 
husband. 

We went defiantly again to the Europe for 
lunch. 

Jo had been expressing her wish to Pavlovitch 
to visit a harem. He came to tell us that it had 
been arranged, as the chief of the poHce was a 
friend of his, and he had asked a rich Moslem to let 
her visit his wives. The Moslem had graciously 
assented, saying that he would do it as a great 
favour to the chief of the police, and that no 
*' European " woman had ever visited an Ipek 
harem. 

We went down the broad street with its brilHant 
houses, admiring the gaudy colours of the women's 
trousers. " What a pity," we said, " that such a 
word as loud was invented in the Enghsh language." 



164 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM 

Outside a huge doorway were sitting tlie chief 
of police and the wealthy Albanian. We were 
introduced with great ceremony, and the Moslem, 
losing no time, took Jo through the doorway into 
a courtyard. At the end was another door 
guarded by a responsible-looking Albanian. He 
stood aside, and she entered another court full 
of trees and a basket-work hut. She passed 
through the lower story, which was full of grain, 
and ascended into a beautiful room with a seat 
built all round it. 

It was entirely furnished with carpets. He 
waved his hand to the seat, called to his wives 
much as a sportsman summons his dogs, and 
left. 

They came in, three women, simply dressed in 
chemise and flowered cotton bloomers. Their 
voices were shaking with excitement, and they 
were fearfully upset because Jo got up to shake 
hands with them. 

They only spoke Albanian, and a few words 
of Serb. One had been very beautiful, but her 
teeth were decayed, another was a healthy-looking 
young woman, and the third was frankly hideous. 

They brought coffee, the chief wife presenting 
it with her hand across her chest — a, pohte way of 
saying— 

" I am your slave." 



TURKISH WOMEN 165 

Jo spoke Serb, and they clearly said in 
Albanian — 

'* If only we could tell what you are saying." 

After which every one sat and beamed, and 
they kept calling for somebody. 

A plump dark-eyed girl came in, the first wife's 
daughter. She spoke Serb, and interpreted for the 
wives. 

They wanted to know everything, but knew so 
little that they could grasp nothing. 

Where had Jo come from ? She tried London, 
Paris ; no use, they had never heard of them — 'two 
weeks on the sea — they didn't know what the sea 
was, nor ships nor boats. They had never left 
Ipek and only knew the Uttle curly river. 

The girl said that " devoikas " did not learn to 
read and write. That was for the men. 

Jo finally explained that she had ridden on 
horseback from Plevlie. Then they gasped- — 

" How far you have travelled ! What a wonder- 
ful fife, and does your husband let you speak to 
other men ? " 

She asked them what they did. 

" Nothing." " Sewing ? " *' A little," they 
owned with elegant ease. 

The chief wife had recently lost one of her 
children, but did not seem to know of what it had 
died. 



166 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAKEM 

*' I should think a woman doctor would be 
useful here," said Jo. 

They screamed with laughter. *' How funny ! 
Why, she would be so thick ! " they said, stretching 
their arms as wide as they could. 

They kept inventing pretexts for keeping her, 
but when she rose to go for the third time they 
regretfully bade her farewell, the daughter took 
both her hands and imprinted a smacking kiss. 

Outside the healthy-looking wife emerged from 
the basket hut, where she was evidently preparing 
some dehcacy to bring up, and showed signs of deep 
disappointment. 

The responsible-looking man who let her out 
also expressed his regrets that she had not stayed 
longer. In the great street doorway was seated 
the husband, but no Jan, no Pavlovitch, so Jo 
sat with him, somewhat embarrassed, eating bits 
of apple which he peeled for her. 

In the afternoon we went to bid farewell to the 
Archbishop and took Pavlovitch with us. The 
Archbishop gave Pavlovitch a poor welcome until 
he heard his name. 

'' Are you Nikola Pavlovitch, of whom I have 
heard so much from the Governor ? I thought you 
were only a common soldier. I have met you 
at last." 

We felt we were really consorting with the great. 



KEPENTANCE 167 

Jo related her harem experiences, and he told 
of the attempts of the young Turks in Constanti- 
nople to aboHsh the veil, of how he had assisted 
at small dinner parties where the ladies had dis- 
carded their veils, and of the ferocity with which 
the priests and leaders had fought and quashed the 
movement. 

One lady had ventured unveiled into the bazaar, 
and one of the lowest of women had given her a 
blow on the face. On appeahng to a pohceman 
she had received small comfort, as he told her she 
ought to be ashamed of herself. 

As we went home we met women coming home 
from the fair with unsold carpets. They accosted 
us and wanted to know why we were writing them 
in the morning so that they could tell their relatives 
all about it. 

When we reached our bedroom the old innkeeper 
came in. In dulcet tones she admired our pur- 
chases. We were rather stiff. 

Suddenly she fell upon Jo's neck saying, " You 
mustn't be angry with me," and remained there 
explaining. 

When she left, Jo looked gravely at Jan, 
took a toothcomb, let down her hair, and worked 
hard for a while. 

Next day we went for a long walk. As we were 
returning a terrific storm burst over us. We had 



168 IPEK, BECHANI AND A HAEEM 

left our mackintoshes in the inn, and were soon wet 
through. We got back just at supper time, and 
after, as Jan had no change of clothing, he decided 
to go to bed in his wet things, heaping blankets 
and rugs over himself in the hopes of being dry by 
the morrow. 




CHAPTER XII 

THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO — ^11 

Jan awoke nearly dry, or in a sort of warm damp- 
ness, at 4.30 a.m. Not a soul was about, and we 
packed by candle. There was a purple dawn, 
and the towering cHffs behind the minarets glowed 
a deep cerise for at least ten minutes ere the light 
reached the town. The streets were still and 
deserted, but at last an old man with a coffee 
machine on his back, and a tin waistbelt full of 
pigeon-holes containing cups, took a seat at a corner. 
At six he was surrounded by groups of Albanian 
workmen drinking coffee, and he beckoned us to 
come and take coffee with him, but we were 
suspicious of the cleanHness of his crockery. A 
miserable-looking woman in widow's weeds was 
loitering about the door of the post ojQ5ce, and with 
her was a tattered girl surrounded by trunks, suit- 
cases, and bandboxes, so we guessed they were 
there to be fellow passengers. A waggon loaded 
with boxes halted before them, but the widow 
declined to let her baggage go by it. 

169 



170 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGEO— II 

At last the post waggon came. It was a small 
springless openwork cart with a rounded hood on it, 
so that it could roll when it upset^ — which was the 
rule rather than the exception — luggage accommo- 
dation was provided only for the " soap and tooth- 
brush " type of traveller ; but the widow insisted 
upon packing in all her movables, and after that 
we four squeezed into what room was left. The 
seat was low, one's chin and knees were in 
dangerous proximity, and a less ideal position for 
travelhng some thirty-five miles could not be 
imagined. The widow's portmanteau, all knobs 
and locks, was arranged to coincide with Jo's spine. 
The tattered maid was loaded with five packages 
on her knees which she could not control, so we 
looked as cheerful as we could and said to ourselves, 
" Anyway it will do in the book." 

At the start Jan was rather grateful for the 
squash, for the air was chilly ; soon the damp, 
exposed parts of his clothing cooled to freezing 
point, and it was lucky that they were not more 
extensive. 

As we rolled over the craters and crests of the— 
what had once been — stone-paved streets, the 
driver halted, here to buy a large loaf of bread, 
there to purchase smelly cheese, and finally to 
pick up a gold-laced officer, whom we took to be the 
post-guard. The driver, who sat back to back with 



TO MITROVITZA 171 

Jan, grumbled at him because he took up too much 
room. But Jan repHed that it was his own fault 
for not making the carriage bigger, and that his 
knees were not telescopic. We received the post 
of Montenegro, for this was the only road out ; it 
consisted of three letters and a circular, so we 
judged that Montenegrin censorship was pretty 
strict. 

The road was flat, the surrounding country 
covered with httle scrubby oak bushes, in and out of 
which ran innumerable black pigs who had long cross 
pieces bound to their necks to prevent them from 
pushing through hedges into the few maize fields. 
As the miles passed Jan slowly began to dry, his 
temperature went up and his temper became 
better. The widow, we discovered, was the relict 
of a Greek doctor who had died of typhus in 
Plevhe, and she was returning to her native 
land. 

Presently we came to a small inn, a hut like 
all others, and the driver commanded us to get out. 
By this time we were accustomed to the sight of 
nobles kissing market women relatives, and it did 
not surprise us to see the officer embrace the rather 
dirty hostess of the inn and kiss all the children ; 
but when he took his place behind the bar and 
began to serve the coffee ! . . . It was a minute 
before we realized that he had not been guarding 



172 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— II 

the three letters and the circular, but merely was 
returning home. 

At the Montenegrin frontier, which was some 
hours on, a soldier asked us for a lift, as though he 
could not see that we were already bulging at all 
points with excess luggage ; at the Serbian frontier 
Jan was asked for his passport, and as they did not 
demand that of the widow, we concluded that they 
imagined her to be Mrs. Gordon, and Jo and the 
tattered one, two handmaids. 

Immediately over the frontier the road began 
to be Serbian, but not as Serbian as it became 
later on, and we reached Rudnik — and lunch — 
in good condition. Another carriage similar to our 
own was here, containing a Turkish family. The 
father, a great stalwart Albanian, and the son a 
budding priest in cerise socks. The priest was 
carrying food to his carriage, and we discovered 
that a woman was within, stowed away at the back 
like the widow's luggage, and carefully protected 
by two curtains, so that no eye should behold her. 
Her sufferings between Eudnik and Mitrovitza 
can be imagined when you have heard ours. 

From Rudnik we walked to ease our cramped 
limbs, and the road became so bad that the driver 
went across country to avoid it. Here is the 
receipt for making a Serbian road. 

" The engineer in charge shall send two hundred 



SERBIAN ROADS 173 

bullock trains from Here to There. He shall then 
find out along which path the greater number have 
travelled {i.e. which has the deepest ruts), after 
which an Austrian surveyor shall map it and mark 
it, * Road to There.' Should the ruts become so 
deep that the carts are shding upon their bottoms 
rather than travelHng upon their wheels, an 
overseer must be sent to throw stones at it. He 
and ten devils worse than himself shall heave 
rocks till they think they have hurt it enough, 
when they may return home, leaving the road 
ten times worse than before, for the boulders by 
no means are to fill the ruts, but only to render 
them more exciting." 

Oh, we walked. Indeed, we walked a good deal 
more than the driver thought complimentary, we 
got out at every uphill, and put steam on so that 
we should not be caught on the downhills. By 
supreme efforts we managed to get in four hours' 
waUdng out of the torturous thirteen. Once — 
when we were a long way ahead — we were stopped 
by a gendarme. 

" Where are your passports ? " demanded he. 

" In the post-waggon," rephed Jan. 

" Why did you leave your passports in the 
post- waggon ? " 

" Because they were in the pocket of my great- 
coat." 



174 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— 11 

" Why did you leave your great-coat in the 
post- waggon ? " 

" Because it is hot." 

" I shall have to arrest you," quoth the gen- 
darme. 

But his officer came from an adjoining building 
and told him not to make a fool of himseK, 
and on we went, taking short cuts, following the 
telegraph poles, which staggered across country 
like a file of drunkards. 

Eventually the carriage caught us up and the 
driver insisted that we should get in. He added 
that he could not lose all day while we walked, 
and that he would never get to Mitrovitza ; it 
seemed superfluous to point out that we had gone 
quicker than he, but to avoid argument we clam- 
bered in. The driver, in a temper, slashed his 
horses, and off we went, over ruts and stones full 
speed ahead. It was Hke being in a small boat in 
a smart cross-choppy sea, with httle torpedoes 
exploding beneath the keel at three minute intervals; 
and this road was marked on the map as a first- 
class road ; the mind staggers at what the second 
and third-class must be Hke. These countries 
are still barbarous at heart, but Europe cries out 
upon open atrocities, and so they have invented the 
post-waggon. After all, pain is a thing one can 
add up, and the sum total of misery produced by 



SERBIAN ROADS 175 

the post, travelling daily, must in time exceed that 
of the Spanish Inquisition. Thus do they gratify 
their brutal natures. 

We bounded along. The brakes did not work, 
the carriage banged against the horses' hocks, who, 
in turn, leapt forwards, and our four heads met in a 
resounding thump in the centre of the waggon ; 
after which Jo insisted that the widow should turn 
her hatpins to the other side. The widow's luggage 
cast loose and hit us in cunning places when we 
were not looking. The cart rocked and heaved, 
and we expected it to turn over. There were 
other waggons on the road — heavy, slow ox carts, 
exporting wool or importing benzine or ammuni- 
tion, with wheels of any shape bar round — some 
were even octagonal ; and as they filed along they 
gave forth sounds reminiscent of Montenegrin song, 
a last wail from the hospitable Httle country whose 
borders we were leaving behind us. 

The driver promised us a better road further 
on ; but the better road never came, and we hung 
on waiting for something to break and give us 
rehef . There were hints, it is true, unfinished hints : 
some day men will be able to travel in comfort from 
Mitrovitza to Ipek, but the day is not yet. It is 
strange how the human frame gets used to things, 
and we grew to believe that our driver not only hked, 
but joyed in each extra bang and jolt- — collected 



176 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGEO— II 

them as it were — for certainly he never avoided 
anything, though occasionally he wound at the 
brake, but that was only for show, because he knew 
that it did not work. 

We reached Mitrovitza at dark with bones 
unbroken, and rattled down a road with vague 
white Turkish houses upon one side, and a muddy 
looking stream reflecting dull hghts on the other. 
One last lurid lunge, we leapt across a drain and 
broke a trace bar, but too late, we had arrived. 

The Hotel Bristol was full — why are there so 
many hotels in Serbia named Bristol ? — but we 
were received by a stupid-looking maid at the 
Kossovo, and were given a paper to sign, saying 
who we were. Then down to the restaurant, where 
we had a beefsteak which was a dream, and back 
to bed, which was a nightmare, for all night long 
we bounced and banged and bruised our journey 
over again, and awoke quite exhausted. 

The first impression of a town which is entered by 
moonhght is usually difficult to recover on the 
following morning, it is often hke the ghmpse of a 
pretty girl caught, say, in a theatre lobby, and the 
charm may never be rewoven. So it was with 
Mitrovitza, which in day fight seemed just a dull, 
ordinary Turkish town. The Prefect was a bear, 
and sent us on a long unnecessary walk to the 
station, a mile and a half. Sitting on the road was 



THE MUSICIAN 177 

the dirtiest beggar we had yet seen. As we came 
towards her she chanted our praises, bowing before 
us and kissing the dust; but she aroused only 
feehngs of disgust and getting nothing, she turned 
to curses till we were out of sight. The chief 
imports at the station seemed to be cannons and 
maize ; the only exports, millstones, which looked 
like and seemed almost as palatable as Serbian 
bread. We did our business without trouble, and 
coming back the beggar praised us once more till 
we had passed, then hurled even louder curses 
after us. 

We came to a tiny cafe in which were faint 
tinkling, musical sounds. 

Jan : "I wonder what that is ? " 
Jo : " It sounds queer : shall we explore ? " 
Jan : " I dunno, perhaps they wouldn't Hke us." 
Jo : " Come along. Let's see anyhow." 
And up we went. In a large room was a deep 
window seat, and in the window the queerest httle 
Turkish dwarf imaginable. The Httle dwarf was 
sitting cross-legged, and was playing a plectrum 
instrument. His head was huge, his back was hke 
a bow, and his plectrum arm bent into an S curve, 
which curled round his instrument as though it 
had been bent to fit. He was a born artist, and 
rapped out little airs and trills which made the 
heart dance. There were three soldiers at tables, 

N 



178 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO~II 

and presently one sprang out on to the floor and 
began to posture and move his feet, a woman 
joined him ; the Httle man's music grew wild and 
more rapid ; another man sprang in, another 
woman joined, and soon all four were stamping and 
jigging till the floor rocked beneath them. We gave 
the Uttle man a franc for his efforts, and his broad 
face nearly spHt in his endeavour to express a 
voiceless gratitude. 

We were no longer royalty, we were just dull, 
ordinary everyday folk, and at the station had 
endless formahties to go through, examinations of 
passes, etc., during which time all intending 
passengers were locked in the waiting-room. But 
at last we were allowed to take seats in the train, 
and off we went. 

We passed through the plain of Kossovo where 
old Serbian culture was prostrated before the 
onrush of the Turk, and whence Serbia has drawn 
all its legends and heroes ; possibly the most 
unromantic looking spot in all Europe, save only 
Waterloo. Here, far to the left, was Mahmud's 
tomb : — ^Mahmud the great victor, stabbed the day 
before the battle, and dying as he saw his armies 
victorious. History contains no keener romance. 
Serge the hero, accompanied by two faithful 
servants, galloped to the Turkish camp, and com- 
manded an interview with the Moslem general, 



KOSSOVO 179 

who thought he was coming to be a traitor. In 
face of the Divan the hero flung himself from his 
horse, drew his sword, and stabbed Mahmud where 
he sat, surrounded by his armies. Before the 
astounded guards had recovered their surprise, 
Serge was again upon his great charger and was 
out of the camp, cutting down any who barred 
his passage. Mahmud did not die immediately, 
and his doctors slew a camel and thrust him into 
the still quivering animal; when the dead beast 
was cooUng, they slew another, and thus the 
Moslem was kept alive till the Serbian hosts had 
been overthrown. He and the Serbian Czar were 
buried on the same field- — one dead in victory, one 
in defeat. 

We trundled slowly over the great plain whose 
decision altered the fate of the world, for who knows 
what might have grown up under a great Byzantine 
culture ? The farms were sohdly built houses with 
great well-filled yards, surrounded by high and 
defensible walls. We came into stations where 
long shambhng youths, dressed in badly made 
European clothes, lounged and ogled the girls in 
" this style, 14/6 " dresses. Signs of culture ! 

Why should the bowler hat, indiarubber collars, 
and bad teeth be indissolubly bound to '' Education 
Bills " and " Factory Acts " ? Why should the 
Serbian peasant be forced to give up his beautiful 



180 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— II 

costume for celluloid cuffs, lose his artistic instincts 
in exchange for a made-up tie ? It is the march of 
civihzation, dear people, and must on no account 
be hindered. 

Coming back to Serbia from Montenegro was 
like shpping from a warm into a cool bath. One is 
irresistibly reminded that the Lords of Serbia 
withdrew to Montenegro, leaving the peasantry 
behind, for every peasant in the black mountains 
is a noble and carries a noble's dignity ; while 
Karageorge was a pig farmer. There is a warmth 
in Montenegro — save only Pod. — which is not so 
evident in its larger brother ; a welcome, which is 
not so easily found in Serbia. The Montenegrin 
peasant is hke a great child, looking at the varied 
world with thirteenth-century unspoiled eyes ; 
centuries of Turkish oppression has dulled the 
wit of the Serb, and at the outbreak of the war 
Teutonic culture was completing the process. 

We passed beneath the shadow of Shar Dagh, 
the highest peak in the peninsula, six thousand feet 
from the plain, springing straight up to a point 
for all to admire, a mountain indeed. 

We reached XJskub at dusk, found a hotel, and 
went out to dine. The restaurant was empty, but 
through a half-open door one could hear the sounds 
of music. The restaurant walls were — super- 
fluously — decorated with paintings of food which 



USKUB 



181 



almost took away one's appetite ; but one enormous 
panel of a dressed sucking pig riding in a Lohengrin- 
like chariot over a purple sea amused us. 

In the beer hall a tinkly mandoHne orchestra 
was playing, and a woman without a voice sang 
a popular song^ — one thought of the women on the 
Rieka River — a tired girl dressed in faded tights 
did a few easy contortions between the tables, and 
in a bored manner collected her meed of halfpence — 
we thought of the cheery idiot of Scutari. Was it 
worth itj we asked each other, this tinsel culture to 
which we had returned ? And not bothering to 
answer the question went back to our hotel and 
to bed. 




ofj 




CHAPTER XIII 

USKUB 

UsKUB is a Smell on one side of which is built a 
prim little French town finished off with conven- 
tionally placed poplars in true Latin style ; and 
on the other side Hes a disreputable, rambhng 
Turkish village culminating in a cone of rock upon 
which is the old fortress called the Grad. 

The country about Uskub is a great cemetery, 
and on every hand rise little rounded hills bristhng 
with gravestones hke almonds in a tipsy-cake. 
Strange old streets there are in Uskub. One 
comes suddenly upon half-buried mosques with 
grass growing from their dilapidated domes, a 
refuge only for chickens ; some deserted baths, 
and in the midst of all, its outer walls hke a 
prison and with prison windows, the old cara- 
vanserai. 

We crept to its gateway and through a crack 
saw visions of a romantic courtyard. The gate was 
locked, and we asked a httle shoemaker — 

" Who has the key ? " 

182 



THE CARAVANSEKAI 183 

" It is now a leather tannery," he answered, 
and directed us to a shoemaker in another street. 
This was full of shoemakers, and we chased the key 
from shop to shop. It was hke " Hunt the sHpper." 
At last we ran it to earth in the second waistcoat 
of a negHgent individual in a fez. 

How happy the merchant of old must have felt 
when he entered the courtyard after a long journey ! 
The court was big and square, with a fountain in 
the centre, the pillars were blue, and the arches 
red. Tiers upon tiers of Httle rooms were built 
around ; the expensive ones had windows and the 
cheap ones none, and the door of each was marked 
by the smoke of a thousand fires which had been 
lit within. Underneath were cubby holes for the 
merchants' goods, and behind it all was a great 
dark stable for the animals. Once shut up in the 
caravanserai one was safe from robbers, revolutions, 
and the outside world. Lying in the doorway, as 
if cast there by some gigantic ogre in a fit of 
temper, were two immense marble vases, and two 
queer carved stone figures. Who made these 
figures ? Mystery — for Turkey does not carve. 
The old caravanserai no longer gives protection to 
the harassed traveller, it only cures his boots, for 
it has fallen from sanctuary to shoemakers, and the 
leather workers of Uskub cure their hides therein. 
Hence, despite its beauty, we did not loiter long, 



184 USKUB 

for we have ever held a bad smell more powerful 
than a beautiful view. 

Why don't towns look tragic when their bricks 
reek of tragedy? Why is industrial misery the 
only form in which the cry of the oppressed is 
allowed to take visible shape and to make the 
reputation of Reahst artists ? In Uskub is con- 
centrated the whole problem of the Balkans and 
of Macedonia. Her brightly painted streets are 
filled with Serb, Bulgar, and Turk, each dishking 
the rule of the other, the Bulgar hating the Serb 
only worse than the Turk because the Serb is 
master. To the inquiring mind it is problematic 
how much of this hate is national, and how much 
pohtical. Deprive these peasant populations of 
their jealous, land-grabbing propagandist rulers, 
and what rancour would remain between them ? 
Intensive civilization, such as has been apphed to 
these states— civihzation which has swept one 
class to the twentieth century, while it leaves the 
others in its primitive simphcity — seems always to 
produce the worst results. Nations can only crawl 
to knowledge and to the possessions of riches, 
for p oh tics to the simple are hke " drinks " to the 
savage and equally deadly in effect. 

Can the problem ever be resolved ? Can Serbia 
with half her manhood wiped out stand against 
her jealous neighbours ? The creation of a lot 



THE OLDEST CAFE IN SEEBIA 185 

of small states on republican principles seems a 
far-fetched idea, and yet it seems the best, especially 
if the menace of Turkey were removed, for there 
is httle doubt that Turkey, rearmed by the German, 
might make one more effort to regain her lost 
territory under conditions vastly different from 
those which ruled in the Balkan conflict. Mace- 
donia, Albania, and what is now Turkey in Europe, 
each made self-governing under the shield of the 
Alliance — why not ? — and Serbia as compensa- 
tion allowed to expand towards the north into 
territories which are wholly Serb in nationality 
and in feeling. 

We went through the pot market, whose 
orange earthenware was glowing in the sun, and 
came upon an old house with such a wonder- 
ful ultramarine courtyard that we went in to 
look. Over the door was written Old Serb 
Cafe Jansie Han. After sketching there we 
entered the inn for coffee, and sat at tables made 
of thick blocks of marble smoothed only at the 
top. The innkeeper said it was built in the days 
of the Czar Duchan. If this were true, one would 
say that never had the interior been whitewashed 
since then. But there was an air of cosiness 
about it, and we visited it several times after. 
Near by was a little church with a wonderful 
carved screen and a picture of Elijah going to heaven 



186 USKUB 

in a chariot drawn by a pink horse, with the 
charioteer bumping along on a separate cloud, 
which served as the box. We watched the sun 
set from one of the tipsy-cake hills, sitting 
on a gravestone with an old Turkish shepherd, 
who seemed to derive great comfort from our 
company. 

The mountains around reflected the rosy lights 
of the sun in great flat masses. 

The muezzin sounded from the many minarets, 
and twihght was on us. Uskub, romantic, dirty, 
unhealthy Uskub, was soon shrouded in mist ; a 
vision of unusual beauty. 

One thought of the awful winter it had passed 
through, when dead and dying had lain about the 
streets. Typhus, relapsing fever, and typhoid 
had gripped the town. Lady Paget's staff, while 
grapphng with the trouble, had paid a heavy toll, 
as their hospital lay deep on the unhealthy part of 
the city. For a time the citadel was in the hands 
of an EngHsh unit. Before they were there it 
was a Serbian hospital, and the stafi threw all the 
dirty, stained dressings over the cHfl, down which 
they rolled to the road. The peasants used to 
collect these pestiferous morsels and made them 
into padded quilts. Little wonder that illness 
spread ! In the summer Lady Paget's hospital 
withdrew to some great barracks on the hill. The 



LADY PAGET'S 187 

paths were made of Turkish tombstones, which 
were always used in Uskub for road metal. 

The hospital staff was saddened by the recent 
death of Mr. Chichester, who had, hke ourselves, 
just returned from a tour in the western mountains, 
where he caught paratyphoid and only Hved a few 
days. 

One of the doctors had been in Albania, on an 
inoculating expedition. At Durazzo he had been 
received by Essad Pacha, who was delighted to 
have his piano played, and to watch the hammers 
working inside. Like Helen's babies, " he wanted 
to see the wheels go wound." The piano and 
piles of music must have been a memento of the 
Prince and Princess of Wied and of their unhappy 
attempts at being Mpret and Mpretess — or is it 
Mpretitza, or Mpretina ? The music was still 
marked with her name, and was certainly not a 
present to Essad. 

The stamp of the English was on Uskub. Prices 
were high. One Turk offered us a rubbishy silver 
thing for fifteen dinars ; and Jan laughed, saying 
that one could see the EngHsh had been there. 
Without blushing the man pointed to a twin article, 
saying he would let that go for five dinars. 

What caused us to feel that we had wandered 
enough ? Was it the awful cinematograph show 
which led us through an hour and a half of 



188 USKUB 

melodrama without our grasping the plot, or was 
it that the large copper tray we bought filled us 
with a sense of responsibihty ? 

At this wavering moment Lady Paget held a 
meeting of her staff. We lunched there, and part 
of the truth leaked out after the meeting. 

The Bulgars really were coming in against us, 
and in a day or two we were to see things. 

That decided the matter. We went to the 
prefect's office for our pass. Firstly, we were 
ushered into a room occupied by a man in khaki, 
whose accent betrayed that he hailed from the 
States. He was '' something sanitary," and 
belonged to the American commission, so we 
tried again. This time the porter took us up to 
a landing, said a few words into a doorway, and 
left us standing. As he was wandering in our 
vicinity, Jo tried one of her two talismans : it is 
the word" Preposterous " ejaculated explosively, 
and is safely calculated to stagger a foreign soul. 
The other is a well-known dodge. If a person 
bothers you, look at his boots with a pained 
expression. He will soon take himself off — ^boots 
and all. 

The tahsman worked, the pass was quickly 
managed, and we had but to spend our time 
among the shops again. We resisted the seduc- 
tions of an old man with fifty knives in his belt, 



USKUB STATION 189 

who reminded Jo of a horrible nightmare of her 
infancy. 

In her dream a grandfather with a basket had 
come peddhng. Suddenly his coat, blowing aside, 
revealed not a body, but a busy sewing-machine 
in excellent working order. In her agitation, Jo 
fell out of bed. 

We sat consuming beer outside a cafe decked 
with pink flowered bushes in green boxes. One 
of the antique dames who cook sausages in the 
shadow of the cafes brought us a plate each' — • 
funny Httle hard things — and we bought 
cakes and nougat from perambulating Peter 
Piemen. 

The station platform was like the last scene of 
a pantomime. Every one we had met on our 
journeys rushed up and shook us by the 
hand. 

First a Belgian doctor, from Dr. Lihas 
Hamilton's unit in Podgoritza. He said Mrs. 
G. was also in the town, and that the others 
were all coming shortly. Then we met a young 
stafi officer from Uzhitze, who was noted for his 
bravery. The train came in and we stumbled up 
to it in the dark. There was a crowd of women 
about the steps in difficulty with heavy bags. 
Jan ran forward to help one. She turned round. 
It was a sister from Dechani. The rest turned 



190 USKUB 

round. It was the whole Russian mission from 
Dechani. 

We proceeded along the corridor, and ran 
into two men. We mutually began to apolo- 
gize. 

" Hello," we said, " how did you get here ? '* 
They were two Americans we had met in 
Salonika. 

We got our seats and went out of the train by 
the other door. As we passed the compartment 
we saw a famihar face. It was the Httle French 
courier. 

" Quel pays," he said, bounding up. " Et' les 
Bulgars, quoi ? " 

" Good Lord," said Jan. " Let's go out and 
get some fresh air." 

The only people lacking to complete the scene 
were the Sirdar and Dr. Clemow. 

A doctor who had just arrived from Salonika 
asked us to look after four Enghsh orderhes 
who, new to the country, were travelhng to 
the Red Cross mission at Vrntze. With them 
were two trim, short-skirted, heavy booted, 
Belgian nurses, who were going to a Serbian 
field hospital. 

The train crawled. At times it was necessary 
to hold one's breath to see if we were moving at 
all. It was always possible that the Bulgars 



NISH 191 

had blown up a bridge or so. One could imagine 
an anxious driver, his eyes fixed on the line in 
front, looking for Bulgarian comitaj- 

The travellers were restless. Our little French 
courier stood in the corridor looking fiercely at the 
black night ; his back view eloquently expressive 
of his opinion of the Balkans. 

Later on we all slept. A frightful braying 
sound awoke us. 

No, not Bulgars — only the band. Same band, 
same station, same hour, same awful incom- 
petence. 

So the princess had nothing to do with it ! 

Trainloads bristhng with ragged soldiers passed 
us — open truck-loads of them, carriage tops 
covered with sleeping men, some were clinging 
to the steps and to the buffers. 

Nish station had lost its sleepy air. Every 
one was energetically doing everything all wrong. 
The four orderhes and the two Belgian sisters 
were minus their passports. Some one had taken 
them away. These were run to earth in the station- 
master's office, and as the party had no idea where 
to go, we suggested they should come with us to 
the rest-house. 

The first person we met there was Dr. Clemow. 

*' Have you got the Sirdar with you ? " we 
asked. 



192 USKUB 

He answered that he had brought Paul, the 
young Montenegrin interpreter, with him. The 
EngHsh units in Montenegro had been recalled, and 
he had come to Nish to try to rescind the order 
for his unit. 

The town was at its gayest. The cloud had 
not yet dimmed the market. Peasants poured in, 
knowing nothing of the Bulgars, little thinking 
that they would be flying, starving, dying, in a 
few weeks' time. A Chinese vendor of paper 
gauds had come into the town, and all the pretty 
girls were wearing his absurdities pinned on to 
their head kerchiefs. One girl was so fine and 
bejewelled that we photographed her, to the 
delight of her lover, who stood aside to let us have 
a good view. 

A man was selhng honey in the comb accom- 
panied by his bees, which must have followed 
him for miles. They testified their displeasure 
at his selhng their honey by stinging him and most 
of the buyers. 

No one seemed to know when the train was 
leaving. Station-master, porters, all had a different 
tale. At last we decided to risk seven o'clock in 
the evening, and the four orderlies and ourselves, 
copper tray and all, bade farewell to the Belgian 
sisters, who had cut off their hair, and wandered 
across to the station. The train arrived two hours 



NISH 193 

late and stood, ready to go out, guarded by tatter- 
demalions with guns. 

" You can't get in yet," said one of them 
barring our way. 

" Why ? " 

" Ne snam." 

The freebooting instinct arose in us ; we 
awaited our opportunity, dodged between two 
soldiers, and settled ourselves comfortably. 
Several officials looked in and said nothing ; 
another came and forbade us to stay there, and 
passed on. An old woman came with a broom 
and cleaned up. We sat on our feet to get 
them out of the way, somebody squirted white 
disinfectant on the floor, and we were left in 
peace. 

The train started at eleven, moved as far as a 
siding and stayed till four. We found the four Eed 
Cross men had only nine shiUings between them. 
Three had stood all the way from Salonika, as during 
an unfortunate moment of interest in the view their 
seats had been appropriated by a fat Serbian officer, 
his wife and daughter. The fourth, a porter from 
Folkestone, had settled down on the floor, saying 
" he wasn't going to concarn himself with no 
voos." 

They had new uniforms, yellow mackintoshes, 
white kit bags, and beautiful cooking apparatus, 

o 



194 USKUB 

which took to pieces and served a thousand 
purposes. 

In the chilly morning we got out at Stalatch, 
just too late for the Vrntze train. Luckily the 
station cafe was open. 

The four Enghshmen ordered beefsteak, but 
were given long lean tasteless sausages. They 
asked for tea and were given black Turkish cofiee 
in tiny cups half full of grounds. We asked about 
the trains, and were told we should catch the one 
next day. We argued, and extracted the promise 
of a luggage train, which would soon pass. 

Why is it that in Serbia they always, on 
principle, say, " You can't," after which under 
pressure they own, " Somehow you can " ? In 
Montenegro they say, " Certainly you can," after 
which they occasionally find that " Somehow you 
can't." 

At last the luggage train came. We sat 
on the step dangHng our legs and peering down at 
the country below us. 

We were again held up at Krusevatz and 
bearded the officials. They promised to put on 
a special carriage for us when the next luggage- 
train should come in, some time that evening. 

Nothing for it but to lunch and to kill time. 
We watched the mountain batteries pass on their 
way to the Bulgarian frontier. One or two big 





BIG GUN PASSING THROUGH KRUSEVATZ. 



THE LAST LAP 195 

cannon trailed by, drawn by oxen. Many horses 
looked wretched and half-starved. 

The Enghshmen built a camp fire by the rail- 
road. Soon tea was brewing; we drank, and 
chewed walnuts, stared at by crowds of patient 
Serbian soldiers. 

We travelled with the treasurer of the district, 
a charming man who revelled in stories of a mis- 
chievous boyhood spent in a Jesuit estabhshment. 
The fathers had stuck to him nobly until he had 
mixed red paint with the holy water, and one 
of the fathers, while administering the service, 
had suddenly beheld his whole congregation 
marked on the forehead with damnatory crosses 
Hke criminals of old time. That ended his school 
days. He introduced us to an officer, whose 
business it was to search for spies, a restless man 
who was always feeUng under the seats with his 
feet. Perhaps it was only cramp ! The four 
Enghshmen, cheered at the thought that their 
long journey was nearing its end, burst into song. 
The Serbs stood round Kstening to the melodies 
that were so different to their own plaintive waihngs, 
and presently asked us to translate. We don't 
know if the subtleties of " Didn't want to do 
it," or " The httle grey home in the west," were 
very clear in the translations, as they seemed 
puzzled. 



196 USKUB 

Arrived at Vrntze, we found no carriages to 
meet us. The station-master at Krusevatz had 
promised to telephone, but as usual had not done 
it. We had to break the news to our Enghsh- 
men, who, their songs over, had naturally fallen 
into tired depression, and had to tell them that 
a three-kilometre walk was before us, and one man 
had better stay to look after the baggage. Car- 
riages were telephoned for, but they would be long 
in coming. 

They were ! We arrived at the village — no 
carriages. We agitated. The spy searcher came 
out of the cafe — to which he and the " Bad Boy's 
Diary" man had driven — and made people run 
about. They said the carriages had already gone. 
We denied it, so they woke up the coachman. 

We took the three men to the hospital and went 
back to sit in the cafe with our new friends and 
met many old ones. The local chemist cheered 
and promised us a present of mackintosh cotton 
to celebrate our return. We had spent Easter 
morning in his shop eating purple eggs and drinking 
tea enhvened with brandy, while the choir came 
in and chanted beautiful Easter songs to us. 

An hour rolled by, the cafe closed, our friends 
disappeared. We went to meet the carriages 
from the station ; at last they arrived, with Mr. 
Owen half asleep amidst the kitbags. 



HOME AGAIN 



197 



It was far into the night when we arrived at 
our hospital burdened with our two bags and the 
copper tray. 

The night nurse, a kitten, and a round woolly 
puppy welcomed us. 




CHAPTEE XIV 

MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

Hospital work again. How strange we felt. 
A sad-faced little Serbian lady, widowed througli 
typhus, was interpreting for the out-patients 
while Jo was away ; but she was alone in the world 
and did not want to go — so Jo, homesick for her 
beloved out-patients, had to make the best of it 
and do other work. The Serbian youth who 
had been put on the staff as secretary, was 
dangerously ill with typhoid fever, which he had 
picked up at Kragujevatz. The typhus barrack 
was a children's hospital, containing little waifs 
chosen from the out-patients, and a few women. 

In the early days when we had first arrived at 
Vrntze there were several overfilled Serbian and one 
Greek hospital. They were only cafes and large 
villas, unsanitary, stuffy, and overworked. The 
windows were never open, and through the huge 
sheets of plate glass could be dimly seen in the thick 
blue tobacco smoke a higgledy-piggledy crowd of 
beds. Often two men lay in one bed covered with 

198 



EARLY DAYS 199 

their dirty great coats, while typhus patients and 
wounded men slept together. One man lay un- 
conscious for several days in the window, his feet 
in his dinner-plate. At last he died, his feet still 
in the dinner. Mr. Berry took on a hydropathic 
estabhshment which had been completed just 
before the first Balkan War. This was used as 
the central hospital, where the staff lodged, and 
the most serious surgical cases were nursed. In 
the basement an operating-room was rigged up, 
there were bathrooms, disinfecting-rooms, a 
laundry, and an engine-house, where gimcrack 
German machinery in fits and starts provided us 
with electric light and hot water. The village 
school on the hill opposite was annexed and 
cleaned by a sculptor, a singer, a painter, and a 
judge of the Eoyal Horse Show. This was run 
as a convalescent home, and was the cause of 
many a muddy sit down, as it lay on the top of a 
greasy hill. 

Other large buildings were gradually added, 
sulphured, and cleaned until we had six hospitals, 
one of which was run for some time in connection 
with the Red Cross unit. 

Typhus had not stricken the village badly, but 
the old barracks were full of cases which developed 
several days after each batch of wounded came. 

The Red Cross unit took on the typhus barracks. 



200 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

Mr. Berry, seeing that surgery was for the moment 
a secondary thing, and having received a batch of 
Austrian prisoners riddled with typhus, built 
some barracks not far from the school. Glass was 
unobtainable, so thin musHn was used for the 
windows. 

The first precaution against bad air that Mr. 
Berry took in preparing his chief surgical ward 
was to smash all top panes of the windows with a 
broom, thus earning the name of the Window 
Breaker. Whenever the wind blew through the 
draughty corridors and glass rattled down from the 
sashes, word went round that *' Mr. Berry has 
been at it again." 

Our unit and the Red Cross ran a quarantine 
hospital together. It was originally the state 
cafe and lay in the park of the watering-place. 
Near by were the sulphur baths. We ripped out 
the stuffy httle wooden dressing-rooms, to the joy 
of the bath attendant, who possessed the facsimile 
of Tolstoi's face, and with the debris we built a 
large shed outside for the reception of the wounded. 

In the early days they came in large batches 
from other hospitals, pathetic septic cases, their 
lives ruined for want of proper care. We put 
their clothes in bags for future disinfecting, and 
the men, mildly perplexed, were bathed, shaved, 
and sent to the " clearing-house," as it was called. 



LICE 201 

Those who developed typhus went to the barracks, 
and the rest were drafted to the various hospitals 
in the village. 

The clothes were first sulphurized to kill the Hce, 
and then, until Dr. Boyle's disinfector appeared, 
boiled. This was important, as typhus is pro- 
pagated by infected hce. Even forty-eight hours 
of sulphur did not destroy the nits. One day the 
sulphur-room was opened after twenty-four hours. 
Live Hce were discovered congregated round the 
tops of the bags. Jan put some in a bottle. 
They immediately fought each other, tooth and 
nail, rolhng and scrambhng in a mass just hke a 
rugby-football scrum, and continued the fight 
for twelve hours at least, thus proving that the 
scientific writer who says that the louse is a delicate 
creature and only fives a few hours off the body 
can know httle of the Serbian breed. 

The town, when we arrived, was a bouquet of 
assorted and nasty smells, of which the authorities 
seemed proud. We cleaned up the streets by run- 
ning a httle artificial river down the gutter. Mr. 
Berry had the chief of the poHce sacked and 
instituted a sort of sanitary vigilance committee. 
We took over the local but very primitive sewage 
works — a field into which all the filth of the town 
was drained. 

The slaughter-house was discovered. It was 



202 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

an old wooden shed built over the lower end of 
the stream which washed the village from end to 
end, draining successively the typhus barracks, 
the baths, and all the hospitals. The shed itself 
was old and worm-eaten. The walls were caked 
with the blood of years, yet the meat was always 
hung against them after having been well soused 
in the filthy water. Mr. Berry decided to build 
a new one : some of the money was subscribed 
through Mr. Blease by the Liverpool Liberal Club ; 
the rest Mr. Berry paid himself. At once the state 
began to quarrel with the commune as to the 
ownership of the proposed treasure. So the smells 
disappeared and the town engineer was furious, 
saying he would '' Put all right " when we left. 

Luckily one of the chief men in the town 
had Hved in America and knew the value of clean- 
liness. Mr. Berry was offered an honorary 
Colonelcy ; but he refused, saying he would prefer 
to be made sanitary officer for the town. 

The spring came, bringing with it no fighting. 
A great offensive was expected, had been ordered, 
in fact, but we heard later that the army refused 
to advance. The work was very much lighter. 
Very few men were entirely helpless. The hospitals, 
which were still emptying themselves and whose 
men were coming to us, sent the survival of the 
fittest. Most of the beds were carried out under 




IN-PATIENTS. 



SERBIAN LADIES 203 

the trees after the morning dressings were done, 
and the men lay gossiping and smoking when they 
could get tobacco. Outside visitors were rare. 
The Serbian ladies do not go round the hospitals 
with cigarettes and sweets, and to find a Serbian 
woman nursing is an anomaly. 

Report says that many flung themselves into 
it with energy during the first Balkan War, but that 
four years of it, ending with typhus, had dulled 
their enthusiasm. It is not fair to blame them. 
To nurse from morning till night in a putrid 
Serbian hospital with all windows closed requires 
more than devotion and complete indifference to 
life. Three Serbian ladies came to sew pillow cases 
and sheets every afternoon, and one of them gave 
up still more time to teach the patients reading 
and writing. 

But the town was full, in the summer, of smartly 
dressed women, and the village priest never once 
visited our hospitals. Hearing of the Enghsh 
missions and their work, peasants began to come 
from the mountains around, and the out-patient 
department became, under Dr. Helen Boyle, a 
matter for strenuous mornings. 

Many of these poor things had never seen a 
doctor in their fives. Serbia even in peace-time 
had not produced many medical men, and those 
who existed had no time to attend the poor gratis. 



204 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

The percentage of consumptives was enormous. 
Every family shuts its windows and doors for the 
winter and proceeds industriously to spit, and so 
the disease spreads. 

Diphtheria patients rode and walked often for 
ten hours and waited in the courtyard, and people 
far gone with typhus staggered along in the blazing 
spring sun. 

One jolly old ragatops with typhus arrived 
in the afternoon with a violent temperature, and 
Jo settled him comfortably in the courtyard with 
his head on a sink until Mrs. Berry should come in 
to see about taking him into the barracks. He 
seemed quite happy about himself, but very worried 
about his bhnd beggar brother and his two half- 
bhnd children, whose sight had been ruined by 
smallpox. 

For the latter nothing could be done. 

Another time she kept two boys waiting to see 
if Mrs. Berry could take them into her typhus 
barracks. One had scarlet fever, and the other 
was a young starving clerk in a galloping 
consumption, thirty-six hours from his home. 

Afraid to raise their hopes, and not knowing 
if there would be room for them, Jo told them that 
they were to have some very strong medicine that 
could only be administered two hours after a dose 
of hot milk and biscuit (the medicine was only 



OUT PATIENTS 205 

bovril). By this time Mrs. Berry arrived and 
managed to squeeze the boys in. 

However, we were told to clear the hospitals, 
for the wounded were expected. 

" What could be done with the scarlet fever boy ? " 
At last an idea came : " The Mortuary," built by 
the Horse Show Judge with such j oy . The mortuary 
that we had all gone to admire as a work of art. 

But the scarlet fever boy did not seem to see 
it that way, for in the night he escaped, and we 
have never seen him since. 

Diphtheria was so prevalent that the Red Cross 
on receiving a patient, gathered in the whole family 
for a few days, inoculated, washed, and gargled it. 
They also toured the villages around, digging out 
typhus and other infectious cases, thus stopping 
the spread of infection. They had a most energetic 
matron, Miss Caldwell, who had already nursed 
in Cettinje during the Balkan Wars, and we have 
already told how she managed the Montenegrins. 

Often the patients came in ox-carts. Too ill 
to be lifted out, they had to be examined and 
treated in the carts. Dr. Boyle acquired a special 
nimbleness in jumping in and out of these con- 
trivances armed with stethescope, spoons, bowls, 
and dressings. We accumulated a congregation of 
'* regulars," who came to be dressed every day- — 
gathered feet, suppurating glands, eczema, etc. 



206 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

One old mother with a bad leg was bandaged 
up with boracic ointment and told to come back 
in two days. She came. Jo undid the bandage. 
All the old lady's fleas had swarmed to the boracic 
till it looked Hke a fly-paper. After which we used 
VermigeH. 

All wore brightly woven belts, sometimes two 
or three, each a yard and a half long, tightly 
wound round their bodies, thus making their 
waists wider than their hips. One girl was black 
and blue with the pattern showing on her skin, 
and many men were suffering from the evils of 
tight lacing. 

The village priest received belts as fees from 
the peasants when he married them. He sent us a 
message to say he had some for sale, so we went 
in a body to his house,were received by his daughter, 
who looked hke a cow-girl, turned over a basketful 
of belts, and bought largely. After which he put 
up the price. 

Jo went on night duty for the first time. 

A queer experience this, starting the day's work 
at half-past seven in the evening and finishing at 
seven in the morning — ^breakfasting when other 
people are dining ; hearing their contented laughter 
as they go off to bed ; and then a queer lonehness 
and the ugly ticking of a clock. One creeps round 
the big ward. What a noisy thing breathing is. 



NIGHT DUTY 207 

Some one groans, " Sestra, I cannot sleep." This 
man has not been ordered morphia. Silence once 
more broken only by the sound of the breathing, 
distant howhng of dogs from the darkness or the 
hoot of an owl. The old frostbite man coughs; 
he coughs again insistently. Both say " Yes " to 
hot milk. So down to the big kitchen, some 
mice scutter by, the puppy wakes up and thinks 
it is time for a game. A woman's voice calls 
loudly, " Sestra." Taking the milk off, Sestra 
hurries across the courtyard and along the corridor 
to the Uttle rooms with the puppy tugging at her 
skirt. The woman wants water ; she has wakened 
the other women — they want water. When 
silence again comes back into the ward, one notes 
instinctively the vivid colouring of the two big blue 
windows at the far end, the long Hues of beds 
disappearing into the darkness, the dim Hght of 
the lantern on the table showing up the cheap clock 
and a few flowers. The intensity of hght upon this 
clock is only equalled by the intensity of one's 
thoughts upon the clock. The minute-hand drags 
on as though it were weary with the day's work. 
A groan ticks off the quarters and cries for water 
or milk the half-hours. At last one o'clock. Time 
for a midnight meal. Eggs and cocoa hurriedly 
eaten without appetite in the kitchen, but breaking 
the monotony. Back to the ward again, one of 



208 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

the patients very restless, in great pain. Poor 
fellow, he has had a long and hard time of it, 
fifteen months in bed and all due to early neglect. 

" Sestra," he says, " sestra," and holds out 
a handkerchief heavy with coin. " Tell the doctor 
to take me down to the operating-room and cure 
me or not let me wake up." 

Between four and five there is more movement 
in the ward. Groans give way to yawns. In 
the windows the blue is pahng to grey. Cocks are 
crowing now quite close, now faintly, hke an echo. 
Suddenly the world is filled with work, " washings, 
brushings, combings, cleanings, temperatures, 
breakfasts, medicines, some beds to make, reports, 
all fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, until at 
last the day-sisters come and relieve, and yawning 
at the dayhght one eats warmed-up dinner while 
the others are having breakfast." 

After a seven weeks' absence one was bound to 
miss many old friends in the ward. Some had gone 
home, others were back in the army. Old Number 
13, the king of the ward, was still there. He 
had a dark brown face and white hair, and was 
furious if any dared to call him a gipsy. 

" I am a respectable farmer," he said, " and 
I own seventeen pigs, a horse, and five sheep, a 
wife, and two children." 

He loved to tell of his wedding. It was done 



JOHN WILLIE 209 

in the correct old Serbian style. He went with, 
his mother and a gun to the chosen one's house, 
where she was waiting alone, her parents tactfully 
keeping out of the way. They abducted the lady, 
who was treated with great honour as a visitor in 
her future father-in-law's house. 

" Father " turned up next morning. Rakia 
was served, and father divulged ceremoniously 
how many pigs he could spare to them for keeping 
his daughter. 

Number 13 wanted to know everything: how 
old was Jo, how much she was paid ? 

" What, you are not paid ? " he said in amaze- 
ment. " Then the Enghsh are wonderful ! In 
Serbia our women would not do that." 

Poor Httle John WilHe still left a blank, though 
he had died long before. His name was not John 
Wilhe, but it sounded rather Hke it, so we just 
turned it into John WilHe. He loved the name, 
and told his father about it. 

They sat all afternoon hand-in-hand, saying at 
intervals, " Dgonn OoHe," and chuckling. 

Jan once had brought back from a spring visit 
to Kragujevatz some horrible sun hats. 

They were the cast-off eccentricities of the 
fashions of six years ago, and had drifted from the 
Eue de la Paix to this obscure Serbian shop which 
was selling them as serious articles of clothing. Jo 



210 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

tried them on, and one of the nurses became so 
weak with laughter that she tumbled all the way 
downstairs. 

Finding them quite impossible, Jo bequeathed 
them to the ward, where they were snapped up 
enthusiastically. 

The ugHest was an immense sailor hat, the 
crown nearly as wide as the brim, but the head hole 
would have fitted a doll. However, John WilHe 
fancied that hat and was always to be seen, a tiny, 
round-backed figure, wandering slowly in a long 
blue dressing-gown, blue woolly boots, and the 
enormous hat perched on the top of his pathetically 
drooping head. 

One day poor little John WilHe became fearfully 
ill. His parents arrived and sat dumbly gazing 
at him for two nights, while he panted his poor httle 
life away. His friend the Vehka Dete (big child), 
once a fierce comitaj, was moved away from the 
" Malo Dete," to make more room, and he sulked, 
while the Austrian prisoner orderHes ran to and 
fro with water for his head, milk, all the things 
that a poor httle dying boy might need ; and old 
Number 13 passed to and fro shaking his head, 
for he had been long in hospital and had seen 
many people die. 

A man with knees bent (he said with scroogHng 
them up all winter in the cold) was put in John 



OUR PRISONERS 211 

Willie's place. The Velika Dete came back, but 
he would not speak to *' Bent Knees " for weeks. 

By this time the Austrian prisoners were very 
well trained and made excellent orderhes in the 
ward. An ex-Carlton waiter was very dexterous 
in sidhng down the ward : on his five fingers a 
tray perched high, containing dressing-bowls and 
pots bristHng with forceps, scissors, and various 
other instruments. 

His chief talent lay in peppering frostbitten 
toes with iodoform powder — a reminiscence of the 
sugar castor. 

Our housemaid was a leather tanner, whom 
Jo's baby magpie mistook for its parent, as he fed 
it at intervals every morning. A Czech in typhus 
cloths spent his days down in the disinfecting, 
operating and bathrooms. He had been an over- 
seer in a factory and had added to his income by 
writing love-stories for the papers. A butcher was 
installed in the kitchens. Once a week he became 
an artist, kilHng a sheep according to the best 
Prague ideals. 

All our prisoners, about forty in number, clung 
to the EngHsh hospitals as their only chance of 
life, for in other places sixty per cent, had died of 
typhus. 

The Serbs, though bearing no animosity, could 
do little for them. We saw the quarters of some 



212 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE 

men working on the road. These were show 
quarters and supposed to be clean. Each room 
had an outside door. On the floor was room for six 
men and hay enough to stufi one pillow. They 
had no rugs, and the Serbs could give them none. 
The cold in the winter must have been intense. 

We had come back to this httle world after 
seven weeks' wandering, and almost immediately 
Jan had gone off to Kragujevatz with a broken 
motor. 

While he was away Jo got letters from England 
and Paris, which made her reaHze that things were 
rather in a mess, and we should have to go home. 
We had left England intending to stay in Serbia 
three months, and had been then nearly nine. 



) 



^X, 





CHAPTER XV 

SOME PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

October 2nd. Got a wire from Kragujevatz to 
say that the motor hood is ready and that we must 
go over to get it fitted. We cleaned and oiled the 
car, and at two ran it down the hill, but it would 
not start. Found two sparking plugs cracked and 
the magneto very weak. When we had fixed it up 
it was too late. Four a.m. to-morrow morning. 

October 3rd. Started in the dark, Mr. Berry, 
Sister Hammond, Sava, I, and a female relation 
of some minister or other who wanted to go to 
Krahevo. The motor working badly, as it is 
impossible to get the proper spare parts. Three 
young owls were sitting in the middle of the road 
scared by our headHghts; we hit one, the other 
two flew away. Sava and I stopped and tinkered 
at the old machine for about an hour, changed all 
the sparking plugs again, after which she went 
better. We reached Krahevo without incident, 
where we cast loose the female relation. From 
Krahevo passed over the Morava, which was pretty 

?13 



214 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

floody and had knocked the road about a bit. The 
road led right through the Shumadia country, 
where the first revolts of the Serbian nation against 
their Turkish oppressors were engendered. We 
passed the old Serbian churchyard. I never passed 
by without going in. These queer old tombstones 
all painted in days when pure decoration had a 
reHgious appeal, these tattered red and white and 
black banners lend such a gay air to death ; these 
swords and pistols and medals carved into the 
stone seem almost carrying a bombast to heaven. 
On one side of each tombstone is the name of its 
owner, preceded by the legend, " Here Hes the slave 
of God." Do slaves love their masters ? 

When we passed this road in the winter, black 
funeral flags hung from almost every hut, and even 
now the rags still flap in the breeze. A Serbian 
boy, clad in dirty cottons, shouted to us, making 
gesticulations. We slowed down and stopped. 

" Bombe," he cried. " Aeropla-ane. Pet," he 
held up five fingers, " y jedan je bili slomile. 
Vidite shrapnel." 

He pointed. We saw a quiet, early autunm 
landscape, the blue sky shghtly flecked with thin 
horizontal streaks of cloud. Any scene less warlike 
could not have been imagined. 

" Vidite tamo," he cried once more. 

Straining our eyes one could just see, between 



AEROPLANE BOMBS 215 

the lowest strata of cloud, a series of small wliite 
round clouds floating. 

" Shrapnel," said Sava, pointing. 

'' They hit one," said Mr. Berry. 

I let in the clutch, we sped on once more. 
Bang ! a tire burst. 

Motor driving in Serbia is not a profession, it is 
an art. We were on another of these first-class 
Serbian roads. Presently we came to a long down- 
hill. 

" That is the place," said Mr. Berry to Sister 
Hammond, " where we spent the night last winter 
when the motor stuck in the mud. There, beneath 
that tree." 

We shrugged our way down the hill, and pre- 
sently came into the gipsy environments of Kraguje- 
vatz. 

A man stopped us, holding up a hand. 

" Bombe," he said. 

We got out. In the soft earth at the side of the 
road was a neat hole, four inches in diameter. 
Peering down we could see the steel handle of the 
unburst bomb. We next passed a smashed paHng, 
in the garden behind a crowd were searching for 
rehcs. An old woman had been killed, they 
said. We turned into the main street and 
plunged into a large crowd. The pavement had 
been torn up, and people were grubbing in the 



216 PAGES FEOM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

mud ; pieces of charred wood were passed from 
hand to hand. 

" That's a bit of propeller," said one. " No ; 
it's a bit of the frame," said another. A girl 
proudly held up a large piece of map scorched all 
round the edges. 

" And the men ? " we asked. 

"" Nemachke (Germans)," answered the crowd ; 
*' both dead ; one here, one over there," pointing to 
the middle of the road. 

We came into the Stobarts' camp, pitched up 
on the hill behind the Kragujevatz pleasure 
ground. 

*' Did you see the aeroplanes ? " they cried, 
running towards us. 

" No," we answered ; " but we saw the shrapnel." 

" One was hit — it was wonderful. They were 
flying just over here, and a shrapnel burst quite 
close ; and then one saw a thin stream of smoke 
come from the plane ; then a httle flicker. It 
seemed to fall so slowly. Then it burst into flames 
and came down hke a great comet." 

" D — ^n ! " we said : " if only that machine had 
been working right yesterday." 

We took our car down to the arsenal, and I left 
Sava to take it to bits and get it opened out, for 
there had been a bit of a knock in the crank case. 
The remains of the smashed aeroplane were piled 



THE FALLEN AEROPLANE 217 

in the yard, and from the way it had twisted up 
without breaking one could see from what beautiful 
metal the machinery was made. Some of the 
French experts denied that the guns had hit it — 
giving as their reason that one of its own bombs 
had exploded. But one of the engineers put his 
hand into a big hole which was beneath the crank 
case and drew out a shrapnel ball. I thought that 
would settle it, but the Frenchmen were not 
convinced. The shells were bursting fifty metres 
too low, they said. Fifteen bombs had fallen about 
the arsenal, and one man, a non-commissioned 
officer, had been killed. 

Met Hardinge and Mawson : they both saw the 
aeroplane fall, and were not fifty yards from the 
place where it struck. 

Walked back to the Stobarts' camp for lunch. 
A French aeroplane had come over from Belgrade 
too late ; now it rose slowly in the air and sailed off. 
Saw the two dead aviators; both had evidently 
been killed at once, for they were charred, not 
bhstered. 

Colonel Philhps, ex-Governor of Scutari, and 
Enghsh mihtary attache, came up with the Itahan 
attache. A bomb had fallen just before the 
colonel's house and missed his servant by a hair's- 
breadth. The Itahan was in a room opposite the 
Crown Prince's palace ; he thought that the falHng 



218 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

macliine was going to crash through the roof, but 
it fell in the street not ten yards away. The 
camp itseK was packing hard, for Mrs. Stobart 
had just decided to form a " flying field ambu- 
lance." 

Mr. Berry and I had a tent assigned to us. 

October 4th. Awoke to sounds Hke some one 
hitting a board with a mallet. Ran outside. 
One found the aeroplane from the httle clouds of 
shrapnel, for it was flying very high, and was Hke a 
speck. Clouds of smoke were rolhng from one 
quarter of the town, and we thought that a big 
fire Avas beginning, but it was extinguished. Another 
aeroplane came later. The guns began long before 
it could be seen. It dropped two bombs over the 
powder factory, and two in the town. Mrs. Stobart 
ordered everybody from the camp ; but nobody 
left except the patients, who were driven a mile out 
and dumped in a wood. A long procession of 
townsfolk filed continuously by, running from the 
danger. The aeroplane dropped two more bombs 
in the town, and came back flying right over the 
camp. It was a queer feehng, staring right up at 
the plane, and wondering if another bomb were not 
falhng silently towards one. 

I went down to the arsenal to see about the 
car ; and Mr. Berry and Miss Hammond went off 
to see the anti-aircraft guns. Mrs. Stobart had 



THE RAID ON THE ARSENAL 219 

asked me to go out on the Rudnik road to see a 
car which had broken down, and had promised to 
send a motor to fetch me. Before we could leave, 
news was brought that another aeroplane had 
been telephoned. Presently we could hear the 
guns beginning. Hardinge turned up, and we looked 
out for the machine. We saw the aeroplane coming 
straight towards us ; everybody rushed for the 
cellars, but I wanted to stay outside for the last 
moment. Hardinge was with me. Suddenly I 
lost sight of the plane. I ran farther out to look 
for it, and suddenly there was a report, and a 
great column of smoke just outside the arsenal. 
There was another behind the rifle shops, and 
another behind the boiler sheds. Now the aero- 
plane was overhead. I heard a noise like tearing 
silk, and lay flat upon the ground shouting to 
Hardinge — 

" Lie flat, d— n you ! " 

It seemed ages before it burst. Dust and bits 
flew everywhere ; the windows all sprang out into 
the yard. I looked for Hardinge, but he was 
unharmed. I had expected to be terrified, but I 
was feehng so bothered about Hardinge that I 
had no time to think about myself. 

We heard a shrill crying, " Oh — h ! oh — h ! " 

I ran forward, crying to Hardinge, " A man's 
hurt ! " He answered, ''Is he ? " The dust was 



220 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

so thick I could not see at j&rst, but as it cleared I 
found a workman lying on back and elbows, his 
knees drawn up as though he were trussed ; his 
head waved from side to side, and he was uttering 
spasmodic cries. I said to him, " Where ? where ? " 
and he placed a hand to his stomach. 

The man had been struck just below the ribs 
by a large piece of bomb, blood was welhng from 
the wound, so I pushed his shirt into it, and ran 
back to the office. Mrs. Stobart's car had been 
brought by a lady and a youth named Boon, who 
had both taken cover in the cellar ; so I dug up the 
girl, whose name I have forgotten, as I hoped she 
knew " first aid." Together we ran to the man, 
leaving Boon to bring the ambulance. " Bandages," 
we demanded. " Haven't any," answered the 
few Serbs who had gathered round ; " the first aid 
house has been blown to pieces." We crammed our 
handkerchiefs into the place, and a cotton-wool 
arm pad which was brought, and we then took off 
the man's own puttees and tied him up with them. 
As we were doing this somebody cried — ■ 

" Aeroplanes returning." 

Immediately every Serb and Austrian fled. 
The girl, Hardinge, and I were left alone. It was 
a false alarm. With the returning crowd came 
a large man, who was weeping. 

" Oh, my poor brother ! oh, my poor brother ! 



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BROKEN AEROPLANE IN THE ARSENAL AT KRAG. 





WHERE THE PLANE FELL. 



HOUSE NEAR THE ARSENAL 
DAMAGED BY BOMBS, 



THE WOUNDED SEKB 221 

What have they done to thee ? Why should this 
evil have befallen thee ? " 

As we finished tying him up, Hardinge said, 
" Is it any good lying down ? " 

I answered, " If this poor chap had been lying 
down he would not have been hurt." 

There was no stretcher, so we hfted the wounded 
man on a blanket into the ambulance, which Boon 
had now brought. The girl and the brother chmbed 
within. I took the steering wheel. Boon wound up 
the engine, and swung alongside me. The driving 
was a difficult problem. Whether to drive fast 
and get to the hospital, or whether to go slow and 
spare the wounded man as much pain as was 
possible ? The road was awful : once it had been 
laid with stone pavement, but many of the stones 
were missing, and in so bad a condition was it that 
although several bombs had fallen in the streets, 
one could not distinguish the bomb craters from 
the ordinary holes in the road. At last I decided 
that as it was not a fracture I would go as quickly 
as I dared. Above the clatter of the machinery I 
could hear the weeping of the brother and the 
intermittent cries of the wounded man, *' Water, 
water." 

" I think he's going," said the girl through the 
curtains. 

At last we reached the hospital. We laid the 



222 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

man on the ground and the doctors did all they 
could. But it was useless, the piece of shell 
had cut in directly beneath the heart. In ten 
minutes he was dead. I turned to the brother 
and laying both hands upon his shoulders 
said— 

" Your poor brother was too badly hit. We 
could not save him." 

He stared at me for a moment, not under- 
standing. Then he turned and flung himself 
down upon the body, weeping more bitterly than 
before. 

I went to the ambulance and took it back 
to its place. 

The aeroplane returning from the arsenal had 
flung three gratuitous bombs at the camp itself, 
one had fallen in the Serbian hospital yard, and had 
killed an Austrian prisoner ; one had faUen in the 
top corner of the camp field, but had not exploded. 
The third had missed, only by a httle, the room 
in which the two dead German aeroplanists were 
lying, had plunged into the Stobarts' storeroom, 
and had burst in the last case of marmalade which 
they possessed. It was an awful mess. Had it 
fallen three yards to the left it would have killed 
the chief cook, who was just on the other side of 
the wall. 

I went back to the arsenal. None of the bombs 



RESULTS OF BOMBARDMENT 223 

had struck any important partj almost all had fallen 
in open places, though one had burst on the roof 
of the woodshed, only a few yards from the petrol 
store. Two cans of petrol had been punctured by 
bits of shell, and Austrian prisoners were hurriedly 
pumping them out. Almost haK the work of the 
arsenal was done by Austrian prisoners. Another 
bomb had fallen in the horseshoe store, and inside 
horseshoes were everywhere, some even sticking 
in the beams hke great staples. I had no idea 
before that the bombs had such force. Sava said 
he had been standing in a doorway and a bomb 
had exploded quite close, a piece had whizzed by 
his nose and had torn down the name board over 
his head. When he turned round to go on with 
the work the aide had fled and never appeared 
again. 

I met Dr. Churchin. He is one of the best 
Serbs I have yet met, a philosopher. He was 
looking after the Enghsh units in Kragujevatz and 
I learnt did it excellently, and with a devotion to 
his duties altogether unusual. He told me that I 
had been nominated an honorary captain; but 
I am under the impression that it is an honour 
I cannot by national law accept. 

We went in the afternoon in the car towards 
Rudnik to examine the one which had broken 
down. I soon saw that nothing could be done 



224 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

on the spot, and ordered it to continue its 
" buUocky " progress to the camp. In the evening 
went off to the Government motor school, where I 
found my old friend Ristich and Colonel Derrock ; 
both these men are first-class Serbs — ^joUy, keen 
and friendly. 

October 5th. Our car not being finished, Mr. 
Berry and Sister Hammond went back to Vrntze 
in a car lent by Colonel Derrock. I was to stay 
till all the repairs were completed on ours. There 
was another scare of aeroplanes, and the whole 
town emptied itself, famihes pouring by en route 
for the country ; but the planes did not come. I 
went down to the arsenal and got on with the 
repairs. Dr. May lent me her camera and I got 
some photos. Mrs. Stobart went off with her 
" flying field force," taking with her nearly all the 
men and almost all the cars: if the hospital get 
many serious cases I imagined that they would be 
dreadfully shorthanded. 

In the night the two German aeroplanists were 
buried without mihtary honours. The Serbs said 
that they were assassins and deserved nothing. 
Still, Ejcagujevatz is an arsenal. 

October 6th. Another aeroplane scare; town 
emptied itself once more. Dr. MacLaren and I 
rushed ofi to the anti-aircraft guns, hoping to get 
some photos; but nothing occurred. Got the 



THE SEWAGE TANK 225 

Rudnik car running by taking Mr. McBlack's 
useless car to pieces. In the evening two sisters 
went to Uskub. One of the sisters went to get 
her bag, and I took what I thought to be a short 
cut to help her. I passed between the tents, and 
was striding along, when — Plop ! I found myself 
swimming in a deep tank of water. The sister 
heard me fall, and ran back to the camp crying 
out — 

" Help, help ! The stranger is drowning in the 
bath-water sewage tank." 

I clambered out, and hastily fled to my tent, 
where kindly souls brought me an indiarubber 
bath and hot water. I also got some refugee 
pyjamas, in which I wandered about for the rest 
of the evening. My clothes were taken to the 
kitchen and hung over the big stove. 

October 7th. Went to the arsenal in borrowed 
refugee clothes miles too large. Worried the car 
till it worked. At lunch clothes dry. Got away 
by three, Hardinge coming with us. Night came 
on before we got home. Our car is a beastly 
nuisance in the dark, the lamps, electric and worked 
from the magneto, only giving Hght when going 
at full speed, which is impossible on these roads. 
I was just boasting to Harding that I had never 
run into anything except the owl, when I hit a 
cow. Figures appeared cursing from the darkness ; 

Q 



226 PAGES FEOM MR. GORDON'S DIARY 

we cursed back for allowing the animal to stray; 
other figures appeared cursing on our side. The 
motor was pushed back, the cow got up and walked 
off, and on we went. Found Jo on night shift. 
Got some supper, fixed up a bed for Hardinge, and 
so self to bed. 




CHAPTER XVI 

LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

Up till now Vrntze was undisturbed by the war; 
the fine ladies were walking the streets much as 
usual, and were bringing pressure upon Gaschitch, 
the commandant, to make us close one of our 
hospitals, so that it might be reopened as a lodging- 
house. The chemist and Jan had an amusing 
conversation about the uncle of Nicholas I. It 
seems he was a great poet. 

*' Sir," said the chemist, earnestly, " I can 
assure you that he was one of the greatest poets 
that ever has hved. Were Serbian a language as 
universally spoken as is Enghsh, he would stand 
beside Shakespeare in the world's estimation, if 
not before. The depth of his philosophy, sir, it 
is astounding and so deep. There are passages 
in his poetry which I have studied for weeks on 
end and never yet been able to understand." 

The true explanation is that the great poet 
translated an old work of German philosophy into 

227 



228 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

Serbian, and very likely did not understand all the 
original himself. 

We got more letters urging us to return. Our 
studios in Paris and all our work of the last eight 
years seemed in danger of being sold up. So Jan 
went once more to the Chief. He asked us to stay 
until at least the first batch of wounded arrived, 
for none of the others had had experience of the 
receiving arrangements, and of the disinfecting. 
We moved our beds and baggage to the school, 
which Jo was to take over as a convalescent 
hospital. 

By the way, one of our doctors had a queer 
soothsaying experience. She was told that she 
was one day going to a foreign country with an 
S in the name. She would be quite safe in her 
first job, but that she would be offered a post in a 
large grey building from which if she accepted she 
might not escape ahve, but in any case would be 
flying for her fife, and that she and all her com- 
panions would suffer great hardships and sleep on 
dirty straw in awful places. She was offered a 
job at the Farmers' hospital in Belgrade. She 
refused. It is a great grey building, and we now 
heard that Belgrade was being violently bombarded 
and all had to escape. Eumours came of great 
German attacks on Shabatz and Obrenovatz. 

The next day Serbian refugees arrived from 



NEWS 229 

Belgrade itself : they said that the town was in 
flames and that fierce fighting was taking place in 
the streets. Posheravatz was deserted, and a great 
battle was raging about its outskirts. There were 
reports that the King of Bulgaria had abdicated 
and that the Germans at Chabatz had been defeated, 
leaving 8000 prisoners in Serbian hands. Neuhat 
came to Jan in great glee. 

" We have captured a German major," he said, 
" and he says that never was there a soldier Hke 
the Serb. He has fought Enghsh and French and 
Russians, but he says our troops are the most 
wonderful of all." 

" Jolly sensible chap," said Jan. " I'd say the 
same myself if I was a prisoner." 

Major Gaschitch told Dr. Berry that if the 
Serbian army retreated we were to retreat with 
them. Blease and Jan got hard at work putting 
rope handles to the packing-cases and labelHng 
them for special purposes. One of our lady 
doctors was valued in the morning. In the 
outpatient department a question arose about 
marriage. A Serb patient said — 

" I can marry any time I hke. Pah ! In 
Serbia one can get two maidens for twopence, and 
three widows for a mariasch (Jc?.)." 

Everybody was now running about with maps, 
violently explaining the situation to everybody 



230 LAST DAYS AT VENTZE 

else, and all explaining differently. Major 
Gaschitcli had fixed Novi Bazar as our probable 
haven, and Mr. Berry borrowed our map to see if 
there were a direct road over Gotch mountain, and 
suggested that Jan might get a horse and ride 
over to see. Alas, only a fourth-class road was 
marked, and heaven knows what that may be like : 
lots of country and choose for yourself probably. 
A woman was brought in with what she said 
was a bullet through the breast ; it occurred during 
the celebration of the marriage ceremony, which 
lasted a week. The girl was brought by her father, 
the bridegroom having rushed off to the church to 
pray. The wound looked very hke a dagger 
thrust. 

The new slaughter-house was a fine erection. 
The walls were almost finished and the roof was 
being assembled. One of the Austrian prisoners 
had discovered a talent for stone carving, and Miss 
Dickenson was designing a frieze for the door and 
on each side. There was a fine ceremony — ^while 
we had been away — at the foundation, and Mr. 
Berry made a speech in Serbian. The disinfector 
had also arrived and was soon got into working 
order. 

The news got better. The Austrians were now 
driven out of Belgrade with immense slaughter, 
the whole hne of the Danube and of the Save had 



AERIVAL OF THE ALLIES 231 

been reoccupied by the Serbs. Blease and Jan 
wondered if it were necessary to go on with the 
rope handles. Our first wounded man arrived in 
the evening, a non-commissioned officer, with a 
sHghtly wounded thumb. He had arrived by train, 
asked in the town which was the most comfortable 
hospital, and had walked up. We represented 
that we weren't looking for thumbs, but had 
to put him up for the night; this meant the 
whole business of washing, shaving, and dis- 
infecting his clothes. 

We heard that the French and EngHsh had 
arrived in Nish, 70,000 men, and that they had 
been greeted with the wildest enthusiasm; but 
against that was set the fact that Belgrade after 
all was not quite clear of Austrians, in fact, they 
still held half the town, but that the " Swobs " 
were not getting on at Chabatz. " Swobs " in 
Serbian are any of a Germanic country, while 
in Austria it is a term of opprobrium, meaning 
" German." One of our " Czech " orderhes said 
to Jo, pathetically — 

" I never thought that I should be called a 
' Swob.' " 

Next day came a warning that two hundred 
wounded, serious cases, were to be expected, so 
everything and everybody was in a rush. The 
bathrooms to be cleaned, disinfecting-room and 



232 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

bags to be got ready, wards cleared as much as 
was possible. 

The wounded did not come, and the next day 
they did not come. The chemist said that all the 
Austrians had been driven back, but that the 
Bulgars had at last attacked. Mr. Berry thought 
the news rather serious, and told us that Gaschitch 
had said that we must be prepared to move at 
twenty-four hours' notice ; so back we went to the 
work on the boxes. Next day news was brought 
that the Bulgars had drawn back, and had said 
that the Serbs had attacked them first, that the 
Powers had declared war on Bulgaria, and that the 
Russians had bombarded Varna. 

At last we got news that the wounded were 
really coming. We hurried into our disinfecting 
garments — ^looking hke pantaloons, — and scissors 
were served out to all the assistants. It was 
dark before the first motor load came. 

The undressing-room was a large white-stone 
floored room with four long plank beds covered 
with mackintosh ; behind was the bathroom. The 
first wounded man was pushed in through the 
window on a stretcher, a brown crumpled heap of 
misery, and groaning. We laid him carefully 
on the bed while the doctor searched for the wound. 
While she was examining him a second was handed 
in. No need to examine this one. Bloody head 



EECEIVING WOUNDED 233 

bandage and great blue swollen eyelids told plainly 
where his wound was. We stripped the clothes 
as carefully as was possible from the poor fellows. 
Those who were too bad to go to the bathroom 
were washed where they lay. One orderly with 
soap and razors shaved every hair from each ; and 
several phed chppers on the matted heads. Outside 
was one electric lamp which threw strong hghts 
and darker shadows, making a veritable Kembrandt 
of the scene, lighting up the white clad forms of the 
assistants who were drawing out the stretchers, the 
big square end of the ambulance car, and picking 
out from the gloom of the garden a rose tree which 
bore one white rose. 

The wounded were indescribably dirty, and 
their clothes in a shocking state, all stiff with blood. 
Jo took charge of the clothes bags, seeing that no 
man's clothes were mixed with any others. The 
men all seemed dazed, each soldier seemed to have 
the same protest upon his mind. " This wasn't 
the idea at all, I was not to be wounded. Why am 
I here ? " One suddenly felt the brutal inanity 
of modern warfare ; one felt that if the ones who 
had started this war could only be forced to spend 
three months in a war hospital, receiving and 
undressing the fruits of their plots, they would 
have a different view of the glory and honour of 
battle. 



234 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

Each man had sewn in his belt some tahsman 
to protect him from danger — small brass or lead 
image or medal, bought from the village priest. 

There was confusion at first, for almost all 
were new to their tasks ; the barbers were carrying 
stretchers when they ought to have been barbering ; 
the cKppers were scrubbing instead of doing their 
proper work ; but, nevertheless, it was mar- 
vellously rapid. The motor tore back to the 
station, and by the time it had returned its first 
load had been washed, shaved, arrayed in clean 
pyjamas, and either lay in bed in the ward, or were 
waiting their turn outside the operating theatre. 

Mr. Berry was hard at work : there were several 
cases shot through the brain, one through the lungs, 
one through the heart, and one through the spine ; 
this latter was paralysed. 

Some wounded came in carriages ; it was very 
difficult to get them on to the stretchers without 
giving them unnecessary pain, because of the 
shape of the " fiacres." At last all were passed 
through. 

Do not think us heartless if we rubbed our hands 
and said, " Some very good cases, what ! " for 
emotional pity can be separated from professional 
pleasure, and if these things had to be we were 
pleased that the serious ones had come to us ; had 
not gone to a Serbian hospital. 



CLOTHES 235 

Next day we sorted clothes. Every uniform 
had to be taken from its bag, tabulated, searched for 
money or food, and repacked. They were swarming 
with vermin, but we wore mackintosh overalls 
which are supposed to be anathema to the beasties. 
More operations. One of the men had been hit 
in the cerebellum, and was quite bhnd. The boy 
who had been hit in the lungs prayed for a cigarette 
and an apple, he felt sure they would do him good. 
We sorted more clothes. One of the men had a 
pocket full of scissors — evidently regimental barber ; 
another's pockets were crammed with onions; a 
third had a half-eaten apple, as though the fight 
had surprised him in the middle of his dessert. 
The cerebellum man wanted his purse. We could 
not find it ; after exhaustive inquiry found that the 
lung youth had stolen it. Another patient claimed 
he had lost thirty-six francs ; so down we had to go 
once more, search his package — the smelHest of 
the lot^ — -and at last found the money pinned into the 
lining of his coat, also a watch. Jan took them back 
to him, wound up the watch and set it. The 
grateful owner said that the watch was an ornament, 
but that he could not read it. 

The French were never in Nish at all — all Hes ; 
but Austrian aeroplanes had bombed it and killed 
several people. The Bulgarian comitaj cut the 
line at Vranja, but had been badly beaten in a 



236 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

battle near Zaichar. The flight over Gotch de- 
generated into a joke, and Jo was commissioned to 
do a caricature of it. 

Suddenly a refugee turned up, the hostess of the 
rest house in Nish. She was very worried about the 
loss of her fifteen trunks, which she had had to 
leave, and which contained all her family memen- 
toes and miniatures. She hoped that the scare 
would only last a few days. The Bulgars had 
occupied Veles though, which was bad news. 
Another refugee lady from Belgrade came in. 
More patients. Forty-nine for the "' Merkur " 
hospital. Lots of running about, but at last all 
were bedded. 

A Serbian comitaj girl came in in the afternoon, 
looking for a lady doctor. She was a fine upstand- 
ing creature with a strong, almost fierce, face. 
There had been six of her, she said, but one had 
been killed. The bombardment of Varna turned 
out to be a lie, but they said that all the 
Bulgars at Vrnja had been surrounded. Major 
Gaschitch also said that if Serbia could hold out 
till the 10th, something wonderful was going to 
happen. 

Our visitors had rather a hard time. One of 
them was trotting into the little sitting-room of 
the hospital. She opened the door and started 
back aghast. There was a man within clad in 



MOEE WOUNDED 237 

nothing but a large pair of moustaches. She 
fled. Mr. Berry having nowhere to examine a 
stray patient had occupied the room at an un- 
lucky moment. More wounded were expected, 
so we got into our war paint, and they arrived 
five hours later than we had expected them. 
They came in " fiacres," and climbed off very 
easily. We inquired, " Where wounded ? " " Bel- 
grade." " When 1 " " Three months ago." Not 
a serious case amongst them, and we had heard 
that the badly equipped hospitals at Krusevatz 
were crowded with the most frightful cases. We 
were furious. A lot more wounded came to the 
" State " cafe. None seriously hurt, and after 
examination one man had no wound to show at 
all, nor shock, nor anything. He had simply 
run away. There were several hand cases, some 
blackened with powder, proving that the poor 
devils had shot themselves to get out of it. One 
man would not have his hair cut because he said 
that he was in mourning for his brother, and his 
hat was decorated with a crown of black lace. 
At the same time some serious cases came to the 
main hospital ; one man seemed to have been shot 
the whole length of his body, the bullet entering 
at the shoulder and emerging behind the hip. A 
small boy sat scratching. Jo said to him, " Why 
dost thou scratch ? " He answered with a shout 



238 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

of fatuous content, " I have lice, I have lice," and 
scratched once more. 

The disinfector was working overtime, clothes 
were poured upon us from all the other hospitals. 
Another alarm that wounded were coming, but they 
never came. In their place an EngHsh clergyman 
arrived from Ejrag. News came of the fall of 
Uskub, and that Lady Paget had been captured 
with all her staff. Next day the wounded came, 
many more than had been expected. Jan got 
rather strong signs of inflammatory rheumatism 
threatening, so he went to bed for a couple of days 
with sahcylate. 

The Serbian authorities were beginning to lose 
their heads. In the morning they said that the 
" State " was to be made into a hospital for officers, 
and chased all the patients out ; in the afternoon 
they decided that it was not, and chased back the 
patients- — who had been divided amongst the other 
hospitals. Thus they kept us busy and accom- 
pHshed nothing. In the evening another batch of 
wounded came in. 

Nearly all the reports of the previous week were 
now confessed to be lies. A Serbian minister had 
been dying in the town, and the good stories were 
made up to keep him cheerful. Now he was dead 
the truth leaked out. The Austrians and Germans 
were advancing on every side, the Serbs making 



THE BEaiNNING OF THE END 239 

no resistance since Belgrade. The Bulgars had 
occupied the whole of the line south of Nish. The 
French and English were advancing with extreme 
difficulty. The Farmers' unit trailed into the town, 
no conveyance having been arranged for them from 
the station. The Scottish women were already 
here, having come in the night ; they had to sleep 
twelve or fifteen in a room. Next day a small 
contingent of the wounded Alhes arrived. 

Sir Ralph Paget arrived in a whirl. Leaders of 
units appeared from all sides, and a hurried con- 
ference was held. 

Mr. Berry called a meeting at two. He said 
Paget had announced that the game was up ; that 
all members of units should have the option of going 
home, and that he (Paget) was going to Kralievo to 
see about transports. Jan got to work on the map, 
and decided that the best route out would be one 
to Novi Bazar, and thence by tracks to Berane. 
There were villages marked in the mountains which 
did not seem so high as those by Ipek, also the road, 
if there were one, would be at least two days shorter. 

Sir Ealph came back next day, and knowing 
that we had but lately returned from Montenegro, 
he asked Jan a lot of questions about the road, etc. 
Sir Ralph's latest decision was that all men of 
mihtary age— not doctors — should attempt to 
cross the mountains into Montenegro. He could 



240 LAST DAYS AT VENTZE 

not say if any transport could be provided, or if 
there would be any means of escaping from Monte- 
negro, and in consequence he advised no women to 
move, as they would be better where they were, 
than in facing the risks of the mountains ; they 
would not be in the same danger as the orderhes, for 
whom internment was to be expected. Dr. Holmes 
decided to accompany us, as he said he wasn't 
going to doctor Germans, and he might be useful 
to the retreating Serbian army. Elhs also said 
that he would come and would bring his car, which 
would help us at least some of the way. Sir Ralph 
asked Jan to take charge of the party of the 
English Red Cross, and we went back to our rooms 
to repack, for Jo had already arranged things for 
internment. Mr. Blease decided to come with us. 
Nobody knew what the dangers would be, or where 
the Austrians and Germans were, and many doubted 
if it were possible to get through. The season was 
getting late, and snow was daily to be expected. 
Some imaginative people enlarged on" the brigands" 
and " wolves," but we did not think that they 
counted for much. The chief problems were, if 
we could get shelter each night, and could we carry 
enough food to support us in case we could get 
none, which seemed very possible. 

We got an order from Gaschitch for bread from 
the Serbian authorities. We were going off into 



THE TEAIN 241 

country, the real conditions of which nobody knew, 
and our friends took leave of us, many expecting 
to see us back in a few days. The Austrian 
prisoners were very sad at our going. 

The station was dark and gloomy, the little 
gimcrack Turkish kiosk — hke a bit of the White 
City — was filled with Eed Cross stoves and beds. 
Two trains came in, but neither was for Krahevo ; 
one was Red Cross and the other for Krusevatz. 
A lot of boys, in uniform, clambered on board and 
shouting out, " Sbogom Vrntze," were borne off 
into the night. Our spirits fell lower and lower. We 
thought of the friends we were leaving behind us, 
and of what we had before us. The reaction had set 
in, intensified by the gloom and cold of the station. 

Hours later the train arrived. The only third- 
class carriage was filled to overflowing, people were 
standing on the platform and sitting on the steps. 
We tried the trucks. All were crammed so full 
that the doors could not be opened. 

" You'd better go to-morrow," said the station- 
master. 

" We're not going through that a second time," 
we said. " Can't we climb on to the roof ? " 

We scrambled up. There were other men there, 
lying in brown heaps. We made some of them move 
up a Httle, stowed our blankets and knapsacks, and 
sat amongst them. 



242 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE 

" Axe you all right ? " shouted the station- 
master. 

" Yes." 

" Good-bye, then. Lie down when you come to 
the bridges, or you'll get your heads knocked off." 

We lay down at once, taking no risks, not 
knowing when the bridges were coming. Luckily 
the wind was with us, and the night was warm. 
The engine showered sparks into the air, which fell 
little hot touches on to our faces and hands. Later 
a Httle rain fell. 

Krahevo at three a.m. We did not know the 
town so Jo stormed the telegraph office. The 
officials tried to shut the door, but she got her foot 
into it. 

" When I ask you a polite question you might 
answer it," she said. 

" You can get shelter next door," said one 
grumpily. 

We tried next door. It was crowded, and the 
heat within was unbearable. We saw a door in the 
opposite wall and opened it — back into the telegraph 
office. There were people sleeping there already, so 
without asking permission we dumped our baggage 
and lay down on the floor. The officials said nothing. 

After a while two French generals (or somethings) 
came in. They were refused as we were, but they 
took no notice, unpacked their blankets and lay 



BEDFELLOWS 



243 



down under the great central table. With them 
was a wife, she sat miserably on a chair. The room 
got so stufiy when the door was shut that she 
wished it opened ; the draught was so bad when the 
door was open that she immediately wished it 
shut. Unfortunately she got mixed : the Serbian 
for open is very like the word for shut, and she used 
them reversed. There was much confusion. Just 
as the officials were getting used to her inversions, 
she corrected herself. More confusion. An EngHsh 
girl came in, pushed aside the papers on the big 
table, and began to brew cocoa on a Primus stove 
which she had brought with her. The officials 
looked helplessly at each other. Jan recognized her 
as one of the Stobart unit from Krag : she had got 
astray from her band, but was now rejoining them. 










" 


<• 



CHAPTER XVII 

KRALIEVO 

We roused ourselves at seven a.m. A damp, chilly 
fog was hanging low over the valley, it penetrated 
to the skin, and one shuddered. The railway was 
congested, but train arrived after train, open trucks 
all packed with men whose breath rose in steam, and 
whose clothes were sparkhng with the dew. We 
stepped from the station door into a thick black 
" pease puddingy " mud, as though the Thames 
foreshore had been churned up by traffic. Standing 
knee deep in the mud were weary oxen and horses 
attached to carts of all descriptions, with wheels 
whose rims, swollen by the mire, were sunk almost 
to the axles. Across the mud, surrounded by 
shaky red brick walls, the District Civil Hospital 
showed pale in the morning, and we made towards 
it, splashing. 

We came to the lodge: an Enghsh girl was 
doing something to a kitchen stove. She stared 
at us. 

" Hullo ! " 

244 



A DRESSING STATION 245 

" We've just come from Vrnjatchka Banja," 
we explained. 

She took Jo to the hospital, while Blease and 
Jan dropped their heavy luggage and washed in a 
basin, provided by a Serb servant girl. Jo did not 
return. Jan went to the hospital to look for her. 

Crowds of men were at the door, crowds in 
ragged and filthy uniforms, with bandages on 
arms, or foot, or brow, dirty stained bandages with 
bloodstains upon them. Some of the men were 
crouching on the ground, some were lying against 
the house, fast asleep. Somehow we got through 
them. The passage was full of men, and men were 
asleep, festooned on the stone stairs. The smell 
was horrible. Beyond a swinging glass door 
Scottish women were hurr5dng to and fro bandaging 
the men as they entered, and passing them out on 
the other side of the building. The Serbs waited 
with the stoicism of the Oriental, their long lean 
faces drawn with hunger, pain and fatigue. Now 
and again some man turned uneasily in his sleep 
and groaned. A detachment of " Stobarts " had 
found a lodging upstairs, in a bedroom with plank 
beds ; amongst them we found some old friends. 

Leaving them we went into the village to look 
for a meal, back through the mud. Soldiers, 
peasants, women, children, horse carts and bullock 
waggons, all were pushing here and there, broken 



246 KRALIEVO 

down and deserted motor cars were standing in the 
middle of the road. In the great round central 
" Place " confusion was worse, animals, carts, and 
refugee bivouacks being all squashed together on 
the market place. 

White-bearded oj6B.cers with grey-green uniforms 
were gesticulating to white-bearded civiHans out- 
side the Cafe de Paris. A motor rushed up, 
disgorged three men in Russian uniform and fled. 
A small fat man vainly endeavouring to attract the 
attention of a staff officer grasped him by the arm ; 
the staff officer shook him off angrily. Soldiers 
lounged against the walls and peered in through 
the dirty windows. . . . 

Within, the big dark room was crammed. 
Opening the door was like turning a corner of cliff 
by the seashore. Almost all, at the tables, were 
men : officers, tradesmen, clerks, talking in eager 
tense words. We found three seats. Nobody had 
anything to eat or drink. Three men came to the 
table next to us. They exhibited two loaves of 
bread to the others, and had the air of some one who 
had done something very clever. We were famished. 

Suddenly half the cafe rose and rushed to a small 
counter almost hidden in the gloom of the far end. 
Coffee can be got, said some one. Blease, who could 
get out the easier, went to explore. In a short 
while he wandered back saying that he had got a 



THE RESTAUEANT 247 

waiter. A man came through selhng apples. We 
bought some. At last the waiter came. 

" Cafe au kit," said we. 

" And bread," we added, as he turned away. 

" Nema," he answered, looking back. 

" Well eggs, then." 

" Nema." 

" What have you got ? " 

" We have nothing but meat." 

" No potatoes ? " 

" No." 

We got a sort of Serbian stew, the meat so tough 
that one had to saw the morsels apart with a knife 
and bolt them whole. As we were operating, a 
soldier leaned up against our table, and stared at 
our plates with a wistful longing. Jo caught his 
eye. She scraped together all our leavings ; what 
misery we could have reheved, had we had money 
enough, in Serbia then. 

We paid our bill with a ten dinar (franc) note. 
The waiter fingered it a moment. 

" Haven't you any money ? " he asked. 

" That is money." 

" Silver, I mean." 

"No." 

He hesitated a moment. Then went away, 
turning the note over in his hands. After a while 
he returned and gave us our change. 



248 KRALIEVO 

The day passed in a queer sort of daze of doing 
things ; between one act and another there was no 
definite sequence. The town itself was in a sort 
of suppressed twitter, everybody's movements 
seemed exaggerated, the eager ones moved faster, 
impelled by a sort of fear; the slow ones went 
slower, their feet dragging in a kind of despondency. 
At one time we found ourselves clambering up some 
steps to the mayor's office, in search of bread. By 
a window on the far side of the room was a man 
with a pale face, eyes red-rimmed from lack of 
sleep, and Hght hair : Churchin. We ran to him. 

" What are you doing here ? " he said gloomily. 

We explained. 

" I don't think you can get any transport," he 
said ; " but later I'll see if I can do anything." 

We thanked him. " But transport or no 
transport, we are going." Jan showed him the 
bread order. He read it and pointed to the 
Nachanhk. 

The Nachanhk read our order, scowled and 
passed it on to another man, an officer. The oJOGicer 
read the order, looked us sulkily from head to foot, 
then he pushed the paper back to us. 

" We have only bread for soldiers." 

" But — we are an Enghsh Mission." 

" Only for soldiers here. We have nothing to 
do with Enghsh Missions." 



BREAD 249 

Fearing that we had come to the wrong place 
we retired. 

At another time we were cHmbing up back 
stairs to what had been the temporary lodgings 
of the Enghsh legation. But it was empty and 
deserted ; Sir Ralph Paget had not yet come. 

There were bread shops, but they were all shut 
and guarded by soldiers. Jan saw some bread in a 
window. He went into the dirty cafe, which was 
crowded with soldiers, some sitting on the floor and 
some on the tables. 

" Whose bread ? " asked he. 

" Ours." 

" Will you sell me a loaf 1 " 

" We won't sell a crumb." 

We bought some apples from a man with a 
Roman lever balance, and chewed them as we 
went along. 

At the hospital the " Stobarts " were packing 
up. A motor was coming for them in the after- 
noon. We heard that Dr. May and the Krag 
people were at Studenitza, an old monastery, half- 
way along the road to Rashka. On the flat fields 
behind the station were another gang of " Stobarts," 

the dispensary from Lapovo. One Miss H was 

in trouble, for thieves had pushed their arms beneath 
the tent flaps in the night and had captured her 
best boots. 



250 KRALIEVO 

'' There are cases full of boots on the railway," 
said some one, consoling. 

" But those are men's boots," said another. 

Part of the morning we spent sitting on the banks 
of the Ebar River and watching the bridge, wonder- 
ing if Elhs would come with his car. Ten times 
we thought we could see it, and each time were 
deceived. 

The French aeroplanes came in. They hovered 
over the town seeking a flat place, finally swooping 
down on to the marshy plain on which the 
" Stobarts " were encamped. They landed, dash- 
ing through the shallow puddles and flinging the 
water in great showers on every side. As each 
landed it wheeled into hne and was pegged down. 
Behind them was a Hne of cannons, the Serbian 
engineers were hard at work, smashing off their 
sighting apparatus, destroying the breech blocks, 
and jagging the rifling with cold chisels. Some 
of the cannon were Turkish. All the morning, 
through the noise of the town, the shouting of the 
bullock drivers, the pant of the motor cars, and 
the steady tap, tap of the engineers' mallets, came 
the faint booming of the battle at Mladnovatch, 
not fifteen miles away. 

After lunch we went again to the cafe. Again 
it was full, and we were forced to wait for a table. 
Just as we sat down a woman with a drawn, anxious 



FUGITIVES 251 

face came up to us, clutclied Jo by the arm and 
said eagerly — 

" Is it true that you are going to Montenegro ? " 

" Yes," answered Jo. " If we can get there." 

" Could you give me only a little advice, 
madame ? You see we do not know what to do. My 
husband — he is an old man, and he is an Austro- 
Serb. If the enemy catch him they will hang him." 

" I'm afraid he will have to walk," said Jo. 

" But he is so old," said the woman, with tears 
in her eyes ; " he is fifty." 

" We ourselves will have to walk," said Jo. 
" Make him a knapsack for his food. Give him 
warm clothes. It is his only chance of safety. 
And," she added, " the sooner he gets away the 
better, for in a httle all the food on the road will 
be eaten up, and one will starve." 

The woman thanked us. '' I will make him go 
at once," she said, and ran out wringing her hands. 

A Eussian woman with a thin-faced man sat at 
her table. 

" You are going to Montenegro ? " she said. 

We nodded. 

" I too am going. I am a good sportswoman. 
I have walked fifty kilometres in one day." 

We looked at her well-corseted figure, her 
rather congested face, and had already seen thin 
high-heeled shoes. 



252 KKALIEVO 

" I will come with you, yes ? " 

The Httle man interrupted. " Why do you say 
such things, Olga? You know that you cannot 
walk a mile." 

We pointed out that we were going to march 
across the Austrian front, and that no one could 
tell us where the Austrians were exactly ; that our 
safety depended to some extent on our speed, and 
that the failure of one to make the pace meant the 
failure of all. The httle man drew her away. 

In the afternoon a miserable fit of depression 
took us, but we pushed it behind us. To the hospital 
for tea, taking with us a tin of cocoa and some 
condensed milk, which the people lacked. Biscuits 
and treacle, the treacle looted from the railway, 
where an obhging guard had said that he could not 
give permission to take it, but that he could look 
the other way. We heard the tale of Kragujevatz, 
of the camp and all the buildings filled to over- 
flowing. More aeroplane raids ; and of the sudden 
order to evacuate. All the wounded who could 
crawl were got from their beds and turned into the 
street by the authorities to go : if they could not 
walk, to crawl. A few Serb and Austrian doctors 
were left to guard and watch those too ill to go ; 
with them some Swedish and Dutch sisters, and 
the Netherlands flag flying from the hospitals. 
Dr. Churchin seemed to have been the good genius 



BREAD 253 

of the Missions, never flagging in his efforts for 
them. 

We heard that a Colonel Milhaelovitch was the 
bread officer. He hved somewhere in the back of 
the big yellow schoolhouse at the end of the street. 
After tea we wandered drearily down to seek him, 
gained permission from a sentry, and clambered 
up some stone stairs. Jan saw an acquaintance 
from the Nish ministry, asked him a question, and 
was ushered . . . straight into the Ministry of 
War. They seemed in a frightful stew about 
something, an air of disorder reigned everywhere, 
but somebody found time to look at the order. 

*' Nachanhk," said he. 

" We've been there already." 

" Well, go there again and say we sent you, and 
that they must give you bread." 

We were worn out by this. Jo went off to the 
plank bed which the Stobarts had promised to her, 
while Jan and Blease to the tents, where Sir 
Ralph's men were sheltering. 

All the streets were edged with motionless 
bullock carts, in which men were sleeping, and 
even in the mud between their wheels were the 
dim forms of the weary soldiery. The two splashed 
across the marsh and found the tents. 

Rogerson and Willett were there; Willett was 
seedy. Another Enghshman named Hamilton, 



254 KRALIEVO 

who had an umbrella which he had sworn to take 
back with him to England. Also two Austro-Serb 
boys who had been acting as interpreters. 

West and Mawson were not there. Rogerson 

said that Sir Ralph had sent them with Mrs. M 

to see the road and conditions at Mitrovitza; 
nobody knew when they would be back. We got 
two beds, but there were no mattresses on the 
springs. Jan rolled up in his Serbian rug, but it 
was loosely woven, and not as warm as he had 
hoped. Just not warm enough, one only dozed. 
About eleven o'clock. Cutting came in with Owen, 
Watmough, Hilder, and Elmer. They had come 
from Vmjatchka Banja with Dr. Holmes. Some 
one had told them that we had deserted them and 
had gone off to Rashka on our own ; they were 
cheered to find us still there. After that we lay 
awake discussing details. None of them had reahzed 
the difficulties of the road and the probable lack 
of food, though the Red Cross men had brought with 
them a case of emergency rations. Jan exposed 
his idea of the route ; somebody said that there 
was some corned beef and rice in a Red Cross 
train on the siding. 

Intermittently in the silences one could still 
hear the sound of the guns. 

Next morning at breakfast Dr. Holmes came in. 
He had thought us gone, and so had procured for 



LOOTING THE KAILWAY 255 

himself and the sister who was with him, seats 
in a Government motor which was going to Mitro- 
vitza. We all splashed across the marshy grass 
to the siding where the stores were. In the empty 
trucks on the Hne famihes were camping, and some 
had fitted them up like httle homes. We found 
the truck, and with efforts dug out twelve tins of 
corned beef, a case of condensed milk, one of 
treacle, and two tins of sugar. We emptied a 
kitbag and filled it with rice. 

The hospital was fuller than ever. The Scottish 
nurses were toiling as quickly as they could, and 
each man received a couple of hard ship's biscuits 
from a great sack, when his wounds were dressed. 
He immediately wolfed the hard biscuits and lay 
down ; in one minute he was asleep, and the 
hospital grounds were strewn with the sleeping 
men. From time to time sergeants came in, 
roused the sleepers, formed them into detach- 
ments, and marched them off. 

The Stobarts met us wringing their hands. 
There was no bread, nor could they procure any. 
Jan took their order, and we promised to see what 
could be done. As we passed the station we saw 
surging crowds of men, from the midst came cries 
of pain, and sticks were falhng in blows. 

" Good Lord, what's that ? " we cried. 

We plunged into the crowd. Some of the men 



256 KEALIEVO 

and boys were gnawing angrily at pieces of biscuit 
which they held in their hands. The crowd surged 
more violently, the sticks were plied with greater 
vigour; presently the crowd fell back snarhng. 
The ground which they left was covered with 
the crumbs of trampled biscuit, and the soldiers 
drove the crowd yet further back, beating with 
sticks and cursing. A bread sack being unloaded 
from a waggon had burst, the hungry crowd had 
pounced . . . that was all. As we withdrew we 
saw the fortunate ones still gnawing ferociously at 
the hard morsels which they had captured. 

We took our passes to the mayor once more. 
He received us angrily. 

" I told you yesterday," he said. 

" The War OfiS.ce sent us," said Jan, sweetly, 
" and said that you must give us bread." 

" I have no bread," said the mayor. " You 
must go to Colonel Milhaelovitch." 

We tramped back to the yellow school. There 
was no sentry, and a queer air of forlornness seemed 
to pervade. We asked a loiterer for the colonel's 
ofi&ce. He pointed. We climbed yet another 
stair and found a pair of large rooms ; they were 
empty. Town papers were scattered on the floor, 
one table was overturned. 

A man lounged in. " Where is the colonel ? " 
we asked. 



BREAD 257 

*' Ne snam bogami," lie said, twisting a 
cigarette. 

" Well, find out," said Jan. 

He lounged away and presently returned with 
another. 

" The colonel has evacuated," said the other ; 
" he went naturally with the Ministry of War to 
Rashka last night." 

We went back in a fury to the mayor. 

" You knew this," we cried angrily to him. 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

'" Where can we get bread ? " 

He took up the passes and looked at them. 
His face hghtened. 

'" This one," he said, turning to another, *' is 
written — Give them bread to the value of three 
francs. We will give them three francs." 

" No you won't," said we ; " you'll give us 
bread. You cannot leave these Enghsh sisters to 
starve." 

After some grumbhng he said we could inquire 
at the " first army." We made him write out an 
order ; we also made him give us a clerk to accom- 
pany us. He gave us a tattered old man whose 
toes were sticking from his boots. 

We presented both orders at the " first army." 

It refused at once. We threatened it with the 

War Office and with the mayor. After some 

s 



258 KRALIEVO 

demur it sent us across the town again to the 
" magazine " office. 

At the magazine office we were more wily. We 
presented our little order for three humble loaves. 
He first said " Nema," then admitted that there 
was bread and that we could have it. We then 
showed the order for the other loaves. 

" No, no," he cried, " you cannot have all that 
bread." 

We pointed out that it was not much for a whole 
mission. He still refused. So Jo got up and made a 
httle speech. It was a nasty httle speech, but they 
deserved it, for we had found that they had bread. 

She pointed out that the Enghsh Missions had 
now been working in Serbia for a year, gratis ; 
that no matter if we got no transport we were 
going to get to England, and that it would not look 
well in the Enghsh papers if we wrote a true 
account of our experiences, saying that they had 
allowed the Enghsh Missions to starve. The threat 
of pubhcity finished him. He grumbhng consented 
to give us ten loaves in addition to our own to last 
for two days. Not daring to leave them, and to send 
an orderly for them, we rolled them up in Jo's over- 
coat and staggered down the road to the hospital. 

On the way we met an old Serbian peasant 
woman. She walked for a while with us, turning 
her eyes to heaven and crjping — 



THE STOLEN MOTOR 259 

" What times we Kve in. Only God can help, 
only God." 

At the hospital we met Sir Ralph Paget. He 
told us that the Transport Board had promised 
him ten ox carts for the morrow. Two large 
motor lorries had tm:ned up to take the two con- 
tingents of the '' Stobarts." They were packing in, 
and we asked them to take our holdall as far as 
Rashka, for we were still distrustful of the ox carts. 
We had begun to get into a habit of not beheving 
in anything till it was actually there. 

An Enghshman came suddenly in with a face 
purple with anger and swearing. He was the 
dispenser from Krag who had been left at Lapovo to 
bring on the stores. 

" What's the matter ? " we cried. 

" Brought my motor from Lapovo with the 
hospital stuff," he said furiously. " Left it out 
there on the road. Came in here to tell you about 
it ; and when I go back the cussed thing isn't there. 
Found all the stores in a beastly bullock cart. 
The people said that a Serb o£&cer had come along, 
turned all our stuff out, and gone off with the motor. 

4: 4: H: « " 

There was nothing to be done, so we went on 
packing. An aeroplane was seen in the distance ; 
everybody watched it. 

" Taube," said somebody. 



260 KRALIEVO 

The Taube sailed slowly round, surveying the 
town. It passed right overhead. Everybody 
stared upwards wondering if it were going to 
'' bomb," for we were just opposite to the railway 
station. But it passed over and flew away. As 
it went guns fired at it, and many of the Serbs 
let off their rifles. We have often wondered where 
all the bits of the shells go to, for nobody ever 
seems to be hit by them, even when they are burst- 
ing right overhead. 

The motor gave several snorts, everybody 
climbed aboard. The driver let in the clutch, 
there was a tearing sound from underneath, but 
the motor did not go. One of the drivers clambered 
down, and after examination said that it could not 
go on that day, and they immediately began to 
take it to pieces. The aeroplane came back twice, 
saihng to and fro without hindrance. 

It is impossible to describe properly the feehng 
in the town : it was Hke standing in the influence of 
high-pressure electricity, even in the daytime the 
soldiers in their rags — ^but with barbarously coloured 
rugs and knapsacks — were sleeping in the hedges 
and gutters. There were vague rumours that 
Kumania and Greece had finally joined in ; many 
seized upon these statements as being true, and 
one found Httle oases of rejoicings amongst the 
almost universal pessimism. We ourselves doubted 




PEASANT WOMEN LEAVING THEIR VILLAGE. 




SERB FAMILY BY THE ROADSIDE. 



BETURN OF WEST AND MAWSON 261 

the reports. Sir Ralph's ox carts — in an interview 
with Churchin — dwindled down to a possible two ; 
but Jan got a letter in the evening saying that there 
were ten country carts for the next morning. Six 
were for us and four for the " Stobarts," and that 
we were to take the Indian tents with us. 

We went back to the tents early to get a good 
start next day. Rogerson and Willett were sorting 
their clothes. Hamilton had decided, as he could 
not walk, to go back to Vrntze with the Red Cross 
stores which Paget was sending to the hospital. 
As we were turning in, Dr. Holmes arrived. He 
had not got the seat in the motor, but was going 
next day. Later two mud-bespattered figures 
came in. They were West and Mawson. 

We questioned them eagerly, and although they 
were worn out they answered all they could. 

The road was passable. They had scarcely 
slept for four days. Mitrovitza was already 
crammed with fugitives, and rooms were not to be 
found. On the way back the motor was working 
badly ; the mud was awful. Then the petrol ran 
out. They stopped a big car which was loaded 
with petrol and ammunition, and asked for some. 
They got a httle, and as they were going to start 
the big car suddenly burst into flames : some fool 
having struck a match to see if the petrol was 
properly turned off. Great flames roared up 



262 



KEALIEVO 



into the air, and it was a long time before the car 
was sufficiently burnt down to pass it. 

"West said that it was a most marvellous picture. 

A little farther on a tyre had burst, and they 
had been forced to come back on the rims. They 
eagerly welcomed Jan's idea of the Novi Bazar 
route, f eehng sure that if they once got to Mitrovitza 
it would be long before they got away, and very 
doubtful if they could get lodging there. 

Again we could hear the guns in the night, and 
news had come in that Krag had been occupied and 
that the German cavalry were making towards 
Krahevo. 




CHAPTER XVIII 

THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

The men were up before three-thirty to strike the 
tents, having slept but little. Breakfast was pre- 
pared and waiting at five-thirty in the big hospital 
bedroom ; but the women ate of it alone. 

Jo salhed forth to the camp, anxious to 
know what had happened. She found a testy 
little company. For two hours they had been 
strugghng in the dark with tents and waiting 
for the carts and for a poUceman, as all the rilf- 
rafi of the town was gathering to loot our leavings. 

At last the carts were run to earth standing 
outside the hospital in a Hue — ^ten httle springless 
carts in charge of a stupid-looking corporal who 
had misunderstood his orders. He moreover 
refused to move, saying he '' had his orders." 

The indefatigable Churchin was found, and sent 
him ofi with a flea in his ear. When he arrived 
at the camp we found a woman and household 
luggage in one of the carts. He said it was his 
wife, and objected to our putting anything into 

263 



264: THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

that cart. We told him he would have to lump it, 
and he got sulky ; as each extra package was put 
on a cart he said that it would break to pieces. 
Certainly the tents were very heavy, but we had been 
ordered to take them. When the carts were loaded 
up to the last degree they moved slowly through 
the mud and drew up at the hospital. We were 
sadly overladen. Our party consisted of Mawson, 
West, Cutting, Rogerson, Willett, Blease, Angelo, 
Whatmough, Elmer, Owen, and Hilder — the last 
four being our friends of the railway journey from 
Nish. We were thirteen. Temporarily with us 
also were the two httle Austro-Serbian boys. The 
other four carriages were occupied by a doctor and 
three members of the Stobart unit, two " Scottish 
Women," their orderly and a Russian medical 
student who had been a pohtical prisoner. 

Leaving the town was a slow business, as it 
was being evacuated. Our httle procession pro- 
ceeded very slowly. Most of us walked. Jo drove 
with two of the Stobarts, watching from a seat of 
vantage the packed masses of people who wormed 
their way in and out between the ox carts. The 
road was blocked by some gigantic baking ovens 
on wheels. Hundreds of boys, big seventeen-year- 
old boys with guns, and httle hmping fellows from 
thirteen to sixteen, wearing bright rugs rolled 
over their shoulders, were dragging along in single 



LEAVING KBALIEVO 265 

file. Their faces were white, and their noses red, 
sergeants were beating the backward ones along 
with a ramrod. One of them said — 

" I have eaten nothing for three days — ^give me 
bread." We had no bread, but we discovered 
some Petit-Beurre biscuits, and left him turning 
them over and over. 

The whole town buzzed : motor cars, surrounded 
by curses, insinuated their way through the 
crammed streets; whips were cracking, men were 
quarreUing but all had their faces turned towards 
the road to Eashka, which we reahzed would 
be as full as at straphanging time in the Tube. 
The boys passed us, then we passed them. They 
passed us again. Hundreds of Austrian prisoners 
were being hurried along, goodness knows where. 
Neat young clerks, suit case in hand, elbowed their 
way through the crowd. Young stafi officers were 
walking, jostled by beggars. Jo called to an old 
man who was driving a cart full of modern furniture, 
his face drawn into wrinkles of misery- — 

*' Where are you going ? " 

" Ne snam," he answered, staring hopelessly 
before him. 

Wounded men were everywhere, tottering and 
hobbhng along, for none wanted to be taken 
prisoners. Some had ship's biscuit, which they 
tried to soften in the dirty ditch water, others 



266 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

were lapping like dogs out of the puddles. Some- 
times a motor far ahead stuck in the mud, and we 
had to wait often half an hour until it could be 
induced to move. Gipsies passed, better mounted 
and worse clad than other folk, some of them half 
naked. Many soldiers had walked through their 
opankies and their feet were bound up with rag. 
Why in this country of awful mud has the opankie 
been invented ? It is a sole turned up at the edges 
and held on by a series of straps and plaited orna- 
mentations useless in mud or wet, which penetrates 
through it in all directions. 

We arrived at an open space and halted for 
lunch. Water had to be fetched. It trickled 
from a wooden spout out of the hill and before our 
cooking pot was filled we were surrounded by 
thirsty soldiers, who were consigning us to the 
hottest of places for our slowness. Cutting dis- 
played a hitherto buried talent for building fires. 
We unpacked the food and soon a gorgeous curry 
was bubbhng in an empty biscuit tin with Angelo, 
Sir Ralph Paget's chef, at the spoon. A leviathan 
motor car lurched by containing all that was left 
of the Stobart unit. Another monster passed, 
piled with Russian nurses and doctors. A face 
was peeping out at the back, eyes rolled upwards, 
moustaches bristhng. Was it? Yes, it was — 
" Quel Pays " — ^but he did not recognize us. 




THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA, 



AUTUMN 267 

The baking ovens appeared again, and we 
felt we had stayed long enough. Some of our 
party were very fagged after their various ad- 
ventures since leaving Nish, so they chmbed on 
to the carriages wherever there was a downhill. 
The road wound up a narrow stony valley down 
which was flowing a muddy stream. The trees 
on our side of the river were still green, on the other 
bank they were bright orange, blood red and all 
the tints of a Serbian autumn. The road full of 
moving people was Kke another river, flowing only 
more sluggishly then the Ebar itself. For us in 
future, the autumn will always hold a sinister 
aspect. These trees seemed to have put on their 
gayest robes to mock at the dreary processions. 
At intervals by the roadside sat an ox dead beat 
and forsaken by its owner as useless. 

Dusk came, bringing depression ; the travellers 
on the curly road looked Hke mere shades. Coat 
collars went up and hands were pocketed. Little 
camp fires began to twinkle here and there on the 
hillsides. We came to a large open space where 
many fires blazed, respectfully encirchng a French 
aeroplane section. Opposite was a high peak topped 
by a Turkish castle. There we wished to halt, but 
the corporal said we must push on, as he wished 
to get food for the horses. After we had passed 
the castle the dusk grew rapidly darker and the 



268 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

road narrower and more muddy. Although camp 
fires twinkled from every level space, the never 
ending stream of fugitives seemed to grow no less. 
Darkness only added to the tragic mystery of the 
flight. The bullock carts poured along, the soldiers 
crowded by. 

A horse went down, the owner stripped the 
saddle off, flung it into a cart and cursing stumbled 
on into the darkness. The carts following took 
no notice of the poor horse but drove over it, the 
wheel hfting as they rolled across its body. We 
shouted to the owner; but he was gone, so we 
turned one or two of the carts off, and made them 
go round. But we could not stay there all night. 
The horse was too done, and too much injured by 
the cruel passage to move, so Jan reluctantly pulled 
out his " automatic " and, standing clear of its 
hoofs, put two bullets through its brain. It 
shuddered, Hfted two hoofs and beat the air and 
sank into a heap. 

On we went progressing for mile after mile in the 
mire, but never a house did we see, nor a spot to 
camp on. At last the corporal gave up the quest 
for hay, and we were faced with the problem of 
spending the night on a narrow road bounded 
on one side by cHffs beneath which ran the Ebar, 
and on the other by an almost perpendicular bank. 
The night was black, the mud a foot deep, and a 



NIGHT ON THE ROAD 269 

stream ran across the road. The carriages drew 
up in single file and we discussed the sleeping 
problem, while Cutting cooked bovril on an ill- 
behaved Primus stove. Our drivers had to sleep 
on the carts. The women also had carts to sleep 
in; and the Scottish women offered Jo a place in 
their already well-filled carriage. The men were 
fitted somehow into the rest of the carts, while 
Jo, Jan, and Blease found a ledge below the road, 
and though it was very squelchy, they spread a 
mackintosh sheet and rolled up on it in their 
rugs. 

No sooner were they really settled and sleeping 
than a voice said, " You'll have to get up : an 
officer says the carriages must move on — ^the King 
is coming." It was West. We sat up. Between 
us and the dim hghts of the carts the black shadows 
of the crowds passed without end. 

" I'll go and talk to them," said Jo ; and unrolled 
herself, struggled and fumbled with her boots and 
floundered into the blackness, where a mounted 
officer was delivering orders. Shouts could be 
heard, Hghts waved, horses whinnied, splashing 
their feet in the puddles as they were being violently 
pulled here and there, and our poor little carts 
were moving ahead into obscurity. Jo told him 
they were a Red Cross party — that the carts 
were small, and couldn't they stay where they 



270 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

were ? The officer inspected the poor little carts, 
made his best bow, and said, "Yes, they can 
stay." 

But the corporal did not hsten to Jo's orders. 
He belonged to a country which rates women and 
cattle together, and the carts moved relentlessly 
on. With difficulty Jo found the ledge again on 
which Jan was sitting with the rugs, talking to 
the scenery in a manner which was not pretty. 

Blease came up, and the three of us shouldered 
the things and stumbled off to find the vanished 
carriages, which were half a mile down the road. 
Jan flung his baggage on to somebody and soundly 
boxed the corporal's ears, calhng him a ''gloop." 
Instantly the corporal felt that " here was a man 
he could really understand," and from that moment 
became a devoted adherent, studying our shghtest 
whim, and at intervals humbly laying walnuts 
before us. 

A man came up to Jan. 

" I beheve that man is drunk," said he ; "I 
said that your carts might stand." 

" Who are you ? " said Jan. 

" I was once the conductor of the Crown Prince's 
orchestra," he said ; " now I am traffic superinten- 
dent. It is difficult. I had a horse, a jolly httle 
brown horse, but he gave out and I had to leave him 
behind on the road." There were tears in the 



THE CONDUCTOR 271 

man's voice. *' He was a good horse, but it was 
too hard for him. Now I have to walk." 

'* I shot your horse," said Jan. " They were 
driving over its body." 

"He was a nice horse," said the man again, 
" a nice horse, and now I have to walk. Well, 
good-bye, you can rest here." 

He splashed away in the mud. 

Our new sleeping place was worse : the mud was 
deeper, the road narrower. Jo tried to escape 
the mud and made for the roadside, but the ground 
moved under her and some muttered curses 
arose. She was walking not on grass but on crowds 
of sleeping boys, and very nearly trod on a face. 
We settled down again on our mackintosh sheet 
but did not sleep. Some soldiers were firing off 
guns and throwing bombs into the river all night. 
Near us lay Owen, who coughed for a couple of 
hours, after which he gave up the spot as being 
too wet, and lay in a cart on Whatmough's face. 

It rained, Jo had the fidgets, and Jan expostu- 
lated. The mackintosh was too small for us and 
we got gloriously wet. It is a curious feehng — 
the rain pattering on one's face when trying to 
sleep. By the time one becomes accustomed to 
the monotony of the tiny drops — splash a big drop 
from a tree. Water collects in folds of hat or 
rug, and suddenly cascades down one's neck. 



272 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

At four in the morning the corporal crept up 
submissively to ask if we might move on, as the 
horses were cold and hungry. Only too glad, 
dark as it was, we rolled up our damp bundles and 
put them in the waggons with the sleeping people, 
who awoke, pink-eyed and puzzled at the sudden 
progress forward of their uncomfortable beds. 
Whatmough, who was convinced that the bombs 
and gunshots of the night before were spent 
Austrian shells sailing over the hill, said — 

" That's the first time I've ever hked a fellow 
sleeping on my face." 

One of the Stobart nurses, who had used the 
remains of the hay as a pillow, had been awake all 
night trying to prevent a hungry horse from eating 
her hair along with the hay. With determination she 
had donned a Balaklava helmet and trudged along 
all day in it, even later when the sun came out. 
Blease, too, started the chillsome dawn in a Bala- 
klava wearing shawlwise a rug that had been made 
of bits of various coloured woollen scarfs. Jan 
used as a protection from the rain Jo's white 
mackintosh apron filleted round his head with a 
bit of string and danghng behind with a profusion 
of tapes and fasteners. 

Under his khaki great-coat and about a foot 
longer he wore a white jaconet hospital coat. Jo 
had a pair of roomy ski boots into which she had 



SUPERINTENDING TRAFFIC 273 

fitted two pairs of stockings ; one had been knitted 
for her by a Serbian girl, and they were so thick and 
hard that no suspender would hold them up, so 
they stood, concertinawise, over the boots. One 
of our drivers, a witch-faced old man, had a dark 
red cloak with a peaked hood; and West having 
lost his hat had donned a Serbian soldier's cap, 
which he was taking away as a curiosity. His 
arm was giving him pain. It was very red and 
inflamed and no one knew what was the matter 
with it. 

We travelled for an hour or so, and then every- 
thing on the road came to a standstill- — something 
was in the way. Half an hour passed, nothing was 
done. Several miles of drivers were talking, 
gesticulating, and blaspheming; so Jan took on 
the job of trafiic superintendent, and after a time, 
with a httle backing here and twisting there, the 
problem was solved and we moved on. Still no 
hay stations could be found, and we were also 
hungry, having had no breakfast. We passed a 
mound covered with thousands of Austrian prisoners 
waking up in the twihght. Another hill was black 
with boys. Still no station. Then we saw some 
haystacks being taken to pieces by various drivers. 
Our ten coachmen ran to the stacks and came back 
with loads of hay which they packed in the carts. 
In five minutes the haystacks existed no more, 

T 



274 THE FLIGHT OF SEEBIA 

" Better not leave that good hay for the 
Swobs," said the corporal, as he whipped up the 
horses. We passed a dressing-station. It was a 
sort of laager of ox carts over which flew the red 
cross. Wounded soldiers were sitting and lying 
on the grass everywhere, while doctors and 
nurses were hurrying to and fro with bandages 
and lint. 

Water was difficult to find. At last we stopped 
at the top of a hill in a furious wind. The water 
which we got from a stream looked filthy, but we 
boiled it thoroughly in a biscuit tin, and Angelo 
again presided over a magnificent curry filled with 
bully beef, while we hit our toes on the ground to 
keep warm. A wounded soldier was brought up 
by a friend. He had not been attended to for days, 
and we did the best we could for him. 

A carriage passed laden with two tiny boxes — 
a policeman on either side. Although the boxes 
were small the carriage seemed so heavy that the 
horses could scarcely drag it, and two well-dressed 
men who were riding on the carriage often had to 
get out and push. We wondered if the boxes were 
filled with gold. The dreary processions of starving 
boys shuffled up again ; some were crying, some 
helping others along, one had an Enghsh jam tin 
hanging round his neck. Sir Ralph Paget appeared 
in a motor car, loaded with packages and three 



WE THROW AWAY THE TENTS 275 

other people. We stopped him, and he told Jan 
that at Novi Bazar he could get no information 
of the path which Jan suggested, and added that 
he advised us to come to Mitrovitza. The Scottish 
women were to give up the idea of a dressing-station 
in Novi Bazar and to stop at Rashka. The Serbs 
had told him that there was a good chance of 
Uskub being retaken, in which case we could all 
go comfortably to Salonika by rail. In the other 
case, there were three roads out of the country 
from Mitrovitza, which he thought better than 
trusting to one road, if it existed. 

Jan told him that the carriages were giving 
way under the strain of the tents, two of the axle 
struts having broken; and he suggested that if 
we did not jettison the tents, some of the carriages 
would probably never get as far as Rashka. Sir 
Ralph told him to do what he thought best. 

So we pitched the two heavy tops and the 
long bamboo poles overboard, keeping the 
sides. 

*' Oh, what are you doing with our tents ? " said 
one of the Scottish nurses. 

This was comphcated ! We understood the 
tents were Sir Ralph's. 

All the men swore they were Sir Ralph's tents, 
they had seen them at Nish. The " Scottish 
Woman" said she knew the tents well, and they 



276 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

had cost £50 eacli. The men from Nish still 
claimed the tents, and said that war was war and 
they had left thousands of pounds' worth of stores, 
tents, etc., and had been obhged to discard even 
motor cars. 

" And very extravagant it was of you," she 
said. 

Jan pointed out that if we did not leave the 
tents we should very shortly have to discard both 
tents and carts, which would be even more 
extravagant. 

She reluctantly cheered up, and we drove 
away in the sunshine. Before we turned the 
corner we could see an excited mass of soldiers, 
peasants, and boys rushing to the tents with 
their clasp knives. Perhaps, as coverings, they 
saved many people's hves on the cold nights to 
come. 

More and more exhausted oxen were to be seen 
lying by the roadside. A huge cart drove over one. 
We all arose in our seats, horrified- — ^but the old 
ox was all right, still chewing the cud. Over 
the chff lay the smashed remains of a cart — ^its 
owners were flaying the dead horse. A peasant 
with bowed head led his cart past us. Drawing 
it was one ox — ^its partner was in the cart, hfting 
its head spasmodically — ^finished. Quantities of 
carts passed us filled with furniture, baths, and 




Retreating Ammunition Train. 



PASSERS BY 277 

luggage. A smartly dressed family was picnicking 
by the roadside, sitting on deck-chairs. Colonel 

P and Admiral T sHpped by in a shabby 

little red motor. They stopped and told us they were 
going to Rashka. It was good to see Enghsh faces 
again. A f amihar figure went by. It was the brave 
young officer from Uzhitze. We gave a Hft to a 
footsore Meutenant, who laughed as we trudged in 
the mud. 

" Ah, English and sport," he said. 

Crowds were congregated round a man who was 
carrying over his shoulder a whole sheep on a spit 
and chopping bits ofi for buyers. On a hillside a 
woman was handing out rakia. We thought she 
was selKng it, but were told that it was a funeral 
and she was giving rakia to all who wanted it. 
Starving Austrian prisoners rushed for a glass and 
were not refused. The Crown Prince passed, 
touching his hat to fifty kilometres of his people. 
This time we were not going to be caught by the 
darkness, so we stopped near a village at half-past 
three. The sides of the two tents made good 
shelters for us. They were set up, looking hke two 
long card-houses, and we used bits of canvas for 
flooring, very necessary, as it was so wet. Our 
fires were quickly made with superfluous tent 
pegs, and the rice bag was again drawn forth. A 
groaning soldier with bloodstained bandage asked 



278 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

us to help him. His arm had not been dressed for 
some time. The doctor with us at first thought 
he had better not be tampered with; but finally 
agreed to look at his wound, which was bleeding 
violently. 

She tore up a towel and bound him up tightly. 
He said he was going to Studenitza, a long day's 
walk, though he was nearly fainting. 

On the hill opposite was a huge encampment 
of boys. As the darkness grew all disappeared but 
the hght of the fires. It looked hke an ancient 
battleship with the portholes on fire. We slept, 
the women fairly comfortably, but the men were 
overcrowded. 

Heavy rain came on and poured through the 
top of the card houses. 

" Now I know what the men suffer in the 
trenches," said a very young girl, when she awoke 
in a pool of water. 

" Guess you don't — they'd call this clover," 
said a sleepy voice. 

Looking our oddest we trudged off in the gloom 
and wet of next morning, leaping across rivulets 
of water which hurtled down the roads. West's 
arm was worse, Willett was recovering from a 
bad chill, Mawson had not yet got a decent 
night's rest for a week — every one longed for a 
house. 



RASHKA 279 

" Dobra Dan," said a voice. It was the friend 
of the wounded man we had bound up the first 
day. 

'' Where is your friend 1 " we asked. 

" I lost him," he answered. 

We cHmbed for three hours then waited, blocked^ 
A mihtary motor had stuck deeply in the mud and 
the wheels were buzzing round uselessly, so we 
helped to dig her out. Every one's inside cried for 
breakfast, and when at last we found a swampy 
plain, Whatmough and Cutting flung them- 
selves upon an old tree trunk and cut it up 
for firewood. 

We always had " company " to these picnic 
meals, hungry soldiers, mere ragbags held together 
by bones, crept around us and learnt for the first 
time the joys of curry and cocoa. 

As we came round the corner into sight of the 
town a large block of temporary encampments 
stretched away beyond the river to our left. Be- 
yond them was a flat plain on which was a large 
tent with a red cross painted over it. High behind 
the town towered a grey hill on which was a white 
Turkish blockhouse, for though where we were 
driving had always been Serbia, Rashka lay just 
on the boundary. We drove into a narrow street, 
presently coming to a stop where two motor cars 
blocked the way. 



280 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

The Commandant from Kragujevatz, who had 
promised transport to all EngHsh hospitals, was 
standing on the road. He seemed very flustered 
and bothered lest we should want him to do some- 
thing for us. We assured him we wanted nothing 
except bread, for neither we nor our drivers had 
had bread for three days. The colonel shrugged 
his shoulders and made a face. 

" You might get it perhaps at the hospital." 

Another officer, in a long black stafE coat, 
laughed. He pulled a hard biscuit out of each 
pocket, looked at them fondly and pushed them 
back again. 

" I've got mine anyway," he said. " Bread is 
ten shilhngs a loaf if you can buy it." 

Annoyed by the colonel's manner Jo began to 
mount her high horse and became blunt. He 
was instantly suave. 

He seemed dismayed at our idea (to which we 
still held) of going to Novi Bazar before Mitrovitza 
to see if really no route existed there. 

'' Impossible," said he ; " bridges are broken 
between Rashka and Novi Bazar, and there is no 
route through the mountains from there." 

We remembered that the country had been 
under Turkish rule there years before, and guessed 
that probably the Serbs had not yet been able 
to exploit new and lonely routes. At every side 



NIGHT IN RASHKA 281 

in the streets were faces we knew, the head 
medical this and the chief mihtary that. 

Our personal carts went off in charge of the 
corporal, who was looking for bread from the 
Government, for of course all bread shops were 
shut permanently. 

The Scottish sisters had not found a refuge, 
and messengers kept on coming back saying this 
place was full and that place had no room. 

Colonel G became even less Hkable. It seemed 

as though there were no organisation of any kind 
in the town. At last, when dark had well fallen, 
a man said a room had been cleared for them in the 
hospital. The motor cars moved slowly off and we 

told the rest of our carts to follow, as Colonel G 

said we might get bread at the same place. We 
stumbled after them through pitch black streets, so 
uneven that one did not know if one were in the 
ditch or on the road itself ; one lost all sense of 
direction and only tried not to lose sight of the 
flickering lights of the carts. Jo at last chmbed 
into one, and the carts rumbled over a wooden 
bridge and began to go up a steep hill. We came 
suddenly to a rambhng wooden house and our carts 
dived into a deep ditch. Jo leapt off just in time 
to save hers from turning right over. Crowds of 
wounded Serbians were standing at the foot of 
a rickety outside staircase. Above was a dressing- 



282 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA 

station, and a dark smeUy room with no beds, which, 
was to be the sisters' home. We could get no bread 
and so went out once more into the dark. We did 
not know where our carts had gone, but some one 
said if we went in " that " direction we should 
find them. On we went uphill, losing our way in a 
maize field. In front of us were hundreds of camp 
fires. At the first we asked if they had seen the 
Enghsh. They shrugged their shoulders in negative. 
We asked at the next; same result. We had the 
awful thought that we should have to search every 
camp fire before we found our people, but luckily 
almost fell over Mawson, who had been fetching 
water. We were going in quite the wrong direction 
and but for this lucky meeting might have wandered 
for hours, 

A good fire was blazing in front of the tents. 
An Austrian prisoner cut wood for us in exchange 
for a meal. He came from a large encampment 
whose fires were blazing near by. Dr. Holmes 
and a sister emerged through the smoke ; they had 
at last got a cart and horse. With them was an 
Austrian subject flying for his hfe. He had hved 
for years in Serbia, his sympathies and ancestry 
were Serbian, but if the Austrians got him he would 
be hanged. We wondered if it was the husband of 
the frantic woman at Kralievo, but did not ask. 

One went early to bed these nights. The men 



BED 



283 



spread out into two card-houses while Jo was 
hospitably given a real camp-bedstead in a corner 
of the Stobarts' kitchen, on the floor of which 
slept their men and also West, whose arm was 
getting worse. 




CHAPTER XIX 

NOVI BAZAR 

We awoke to find where we were. The Httle 
encampment which we had seen to our left on 
entering the town, was now far on our right. The 
flat plain — where was the large tent with the red 
cross painted over it — had been our bed, the tent 
behind us ; to our right was the brown hill topped 
by the old Turkish blockhouse ; and in front a cut 
maize field with its sohd red stubble sloped directly 
to the river, beyond which lay the village massed 
on the opposite slope up to a white church. Im- 
mediately below us on the river edge were the 
roofs of the " Stobarts' " refuge and of the Scottish 
women's hospital. Poplar trees in all the panoply 
of autumn sprang up from the valley with their 
tops full of the blackest crows, who cawed dis- 
cordantly at the dawn. Our fire had gone out, but 
the Austrian had left enough wood, another 
was quickly started ; but we found that Angelo in 
making his curries had melted all the solder from 
the empty biscuit tins and not one would hold 

284 



RASHKA 285 

water. So there was a hurried transference of 
biscuits from a whole one. 

From where we sat sipping our cocoa, we could 
see the hurried coming and going of motors in the 
main square, and groups of bullock waggons and 
soldiers about the fence of the church. A great 
street which spht the village in two from top to 
bottom — ^the old Turkish frontier — was almost 
empty. The corporal proposed to visit the mihtary 
commandant in search of hay and bread. So Jan 
dragged on his wet boots and set off with him down 
the hill, collecting Jo from the " Stobarts " on 
the way. 

We crossed the rickety wooden bridge, passed 
between the alfresco encampments — ^Hke travelhng 
tinkers — of waggoners and soldiers which hned 
the roads, up the great frontier street and so into 
the square. All that now was SERBIA was 
concentrated in this Httle village. Private houses 
had suddenly become ministries ; cafes, head- 
quarters ; and shops, departmental offices. The 
square was the central automobile station, and 
cars under repair or adjustment were in every 
corner. Beneath the church pahng a camp of 
waggoners had a large bonfire and were cooking 
a whole sheep on a spit. Austrian prisoners with 
white, drawn faces were wandering about, staring 
with half unseeing eyes ; a Serbian soldier was 



286 NOVI BAZAR 

chewing a hard biscuit, and a prisoner crept up 
to him begging for a corner of the bread ; the 
soldier broke off a piece and gave it to him. 

About the gate of the commandant's office 
were gathered Serbs and Austrians all waiting for 
bread. We pushed our way in. The hay was 
quickly arranged, but the bread was another 
matter. 

" We have no bread, '* said the commandant. 

" But," we objected, " all those men waiting 
outside. They would not come here if you had 
no bread." 

The commandant pulled his moustache. 

" We have bread only for soldiers." 

There was a sudden commotion outside. The 
door was burst open ; two soldiers entered dragging 
with them a man — a peasant ; his eyes were staring, 
his face blanched. We then noticed that he was 
holding his shoulders in a curious manner, and 
reahzed that his arms were bound with his own belt. 
The two soldiers pushed him into an inner room, 
but the officials were busy, so he was stood in a 
corner. 

" What has he done ? " we asked. 

" We have only bread for soldiers," repeated 
the commandant. Bread was evidently the most 
important. 

*' We have a Government order." 



BREAD 287 

He scanned it, pounced upon the three franc 
phrase and offered us money. We pointed out 
that bread was indicated to the value 

" We have no bread for the Enghsh," he said 
at last. 

Jo once more made the nasty Httle speech 
which we had found so effective at Krahevo. It 
worked hke a charm. An enormous sack filled 
with loaves was dragged out and from it he choose 
three. We mentioned the man once more. The 
commandant shrugged his shoulders. 

" He's going to be killed," he said. " Some 
soldiers looted his yard and he shot one." 

He then asked the corporal if he would take 
flour instead of bread. The corporal agreed, 
adding that in that case, of course, they would get 
a bit more. 

" Of course, you won't," said the comnaandant. 

We sent the corporal back to the camp with 
the loaves, and with a Httle trouble found the 

house where Colonel ?■ and Admiral T 

had lodgings. It was a gay little cottage, and 
both were at breakfast. They welcomed us and 
generously offered us their spare eggs, though eggs 
were scarce. The admiral had a large-scale map 
• — made, of course, by Austria — and we hunted it 
for our road. Paths were marked quite clearly, 
and houses at most convenient intervals. It 



288 NOVI BAZAR 

seemed a far superior path to the Ipek pass, both 
regarding shelter and length. 

" But," we said, " Sir Ralph suggests that we 
go to Mitrovitza, because the Serbs say that 
Uskub will fall in a few days." 

" I should get out of the country as soon as 
you can," said one. 

"It is exceedingly unhkely that Uskub can 
fall," said the other. But they promised us as 
dej&nite information as they were allowed to give 
if we would return for tea, by when the aeroplane 
reconnaissance should have come in. 

We went back to the camp with the news. 

Colonel G — — came up and tried to wipe out 
the impression which he had made the evening 
before. He repeated that Uskub must certainly 
fall within the week, and that we should be very 
silly to go ofi to Novi Bazar, which we could 
never reach because the bridge had been washed 
away. 

All the hill behind was crowded with Austrian 
prisoners. They had received one loaf between 
every three men, and said that it had to last three 
days. They did not know where they were going. 
Blease went through their Hues, and at last found 
an old servant — a Hungarian. He was a stoic. 

" One Hves till one is dead," said he. 

The hospital was doing a brisk trade in wounded : 



JUSTICE 289 

sisters and doctors both hard at work. The 
" Stobarts " were resting, and had built a camp 
fire outside the door of their hovel. We got lunch 
ready, ruining recklessly another biscuit tin. 
While we were eating it a Serb came near. 

*' I am starving," he said. 

We gave him some curry and rice. He de- 
voured it. 

'" To-morrow," he said, *' I go back to com- 
mando." 

We pointed to his hand, which was bound in 
dirty hnen. 

" But ? " 

" It is better to go back though wounded than 
be starved to death." 

We also held a court of justice. A driver 
complained that one of the Enghshmen had given 
him a pair of boots and that the corporal had 
taken them. 

" COKPOKAL ! ! " 

He came grinning. We exposed the com- 
plaint. 

" Certainly the man had a pair of boots," said 
he ; " but he has them no longer. Now, they are 
mine, I have taken them." 

" But they were given to him." 

" But I have taken them. I needed new boots." 

He exhibited his own, which were spht. 

u 



290 NOVI BAZAR 

We told him that possession by capture was 
not recognized in our circle, and ordered immediate 
restitution. He agreed gloomily, no doubt feehng 
that the foundations of his world were falhng 
about his ears, and what was the use of being a 
corporal anyway ? 

In the afternoon we sought out the motor 
authorities, finding our old friends Ristich and 
Derrok in command. They easily promised us 
transport for Sir Ralph Paget's box and henchmen 
— ^no trouble at all they said. Yet had we not 
known them personally we might have waited a 
month without help. One is irresistibly reminded 
at every turn that the Near East means the East 
near the East and not the East near the West. 

We went to the Enghsh colonel's, but no news 
was yet forthcoming, and we were, after a jolly 
tea, invited back at eight. 

The camp was in darkness by the time we reached 
it once more. The fire Ht up the men sitting 
about it, and the two inverted V's of the tent 
entrances; very faintly behind could be seen the 
outline of the line of httle tented waggons. We 
had collected an additional member, Miss Brindley 
of the " Stobarts." She was very keen to get 
home, as her parents were anxious, and both her 
brothers at the front. Jo gave one look at her 
and said ' ' Certainly . ' ' She had rushed immediately 



THE DECISION 291 

into the town and had laid in a stock of beans 
and lentils, as her contribution to the common 
stock. They were all she could buy. 

After supper back to the colonel's, and at last 
got definite news. It was unUkely that Skoplje 
would fall, and very httle use loitering in hopes. 
The colonel advised Jan to get his party out by the 
best route possible, and we took a grateful farewell. 

Coming back to the camp Jan had a nasty 
half-hour. Should we go by Mitrovitza, or should 
we go by Berane ? In the first case there was the 
long route, the difficulty of getting lodgings and of 
transport, the risk of falhng behind the Serbian 
General Staff, and of finding the country bare, 
the high passes of Fetch and the snow ; Willett was 
only just recovering from a bad chill, AVest's arm 
had grown much worse, and had been operated on 
in the morning by a doctor with a pair of scissors 
faute de mieux — a most agonizing process. On 
the other hand, the Berane route was unknown 
to the authorities, and might have fallen so into 
decay that it was useless ; we did not know where 
the Austro-Germans were, and they might be 
already on the outskirts of Novi Bazar ; if any of 
us fell ill we should certainly be captured. It was 
a toss up. Finally he asked the others. They 
said — 

" What you think best. You know the country." 



292 NOVI BAZAR 

We finally decided to go to Novi Bazar and 
make inquiries. If there were no road we could 
go thence to Mitrovitza, and would only have 
lost a day. If, as the colonel said, the bridge 
was washed away, we could probably ford the 
river. 

Then to bed. One could not sleep really well, 
for the rugs did not give sufficient warmth, and 
the chill striking up from the ground penetrated 
everything. 

Took the road to Novi Bazar next day. Miss 
Brindley joined us with a parcel of blankets and a 
knapsack and a mackintosh lent by a friend. She 
had lost her boots, or the local cobbler had lost 
them, but most appropriately a motor had arrived 
and on it was a pair of new soldier's boots unclaimed. 
She took them, cut the feet of a pair of indiarubber 
Welhngtons and pulled them over her stockings, 
and put a smile on her face which never came off 
in spite of any fatigue. 

Hilder and Antonio went off with Sir Ralph's box. 
The " Stobarts " wished us good luck, and away 
we clattered over the rickety bridge, up through 
the town and out into the Novi Bazar road. 
The surface was fairly good, and the day turned 
brilhant. We had left the six sisters and their 
luggage behind with their respective units, and 
so had four extra waggons to carry our stuff. We 



LOOTING AGAIN 293 

rattled along cheerily, only dismounting at the 
occasional patches of mud which we met. 

After a while we decided to lunch. We came 
to a cafe and halted. 

" Have you coffee ? " we asked. 

" Ima." 

" Will you give us all coffee ? " 

" We have no sugar," said the hostess ; so we 
had no coffee. 

We got out a tin of biscuits and lunched on 
those. As we were passing them round a soldier 
stopped. 

" What are you selhng those for ? " he asked, 
under the impression that we were a travelHng 
shop. We gave him some, to his great astonish- 
ment. 

On we went again. Down below us in a field 
the corporal spotted a hayrick. Like stage villains 
the coachmen clambered down the hill, each with 
a rope — spoil from the discarded tents. They 
attacked the rick and soon nothing was left. As 
they staggered back, each hidden beneath an 
enormous load of hay — looking themselves hke 
walking ricks — a Turk in black and white clothes 
ran down from above furiously brandishing a 
three-pronged fork. 

'' What are you doing ? " he yelled. 

The corporal stood stifily and said— 



294 NOVI BAZAR 

" It is war. We are the State. It is of no 
value for you to preach." 

The owner went dolefully down the hill, and 
stood looking at where his stack had been. 

" We have again prevented those Germans 
from steaHng good hay," said the corporal with 
satisfaction. Each cart looked not unHke a hay 
wain returning from the fields, and we scrambled 
up on to the top f eehng Hke children in the autumn. 
After we had gone a mile we began to wonder 
why we had given the owner no compensation : 
evidently the corporal's influence was turning us 
into scoundrels. 

At last the broken bridge. Only a shallow 
stream across which our carts splashed joyfully. 
On the other side was a small church with a beautiful 
blue tower. And soon we were in the outskirts 
of Novi Bazar, the most ordinary town of the 
Sanjak, combining the dull parts of PlevHe with 
the dull parts of Ipek. There was a stream down 
the middle of the road, in which some of the 
inhabitants were washing, while one sat on his 
haunches holding up a small looking-glass with 
one hand and shaving himself. 

We bustled off to the mayor's oflS.ce. Found 
him as usual in a back street in a shabby ofl&ce 
up shaky wooden stairs. The mayor knew nothing 
of any road to Berane ; so bafl&ed, we again found 



THE PERMISSION 295 

the street. We went to the shabby Turkish shops 
of the bazaar and inquired. 

" Certainly," said the shopkeepers, " a good 
path to Berane, and not high. No ; not so high as 
that by Ipek." 

We returned to the mayor's oflGice. He seemed 
Httle incHned to consent, and demanded to see our 
pass. Jo again made her httle — ^but so useful — 
speech. The mayor called in an Albanian. After 
a long consultation the mayor said that he had no 
horses. 

" Then we will take our carriage horses," said we. 

" There are no roads for carriages," said the 
mayor. 

" Then we will take the horses without the 
carriages." 

The mayor called in two more men : they con- 
sidered the pass once more. 

" You may have the carriages two days more," 
he decided at last. " Go to Tutigne. As far as 
that the carriages will travel. There are many 
horses there, and you can get pack ponies." 

Coming out we ran into Colonel Stajitch of 
Vahevo. The colonel is a Serbian gentleman, fine 
figure, beautiful face, and white hair and mous- 
taches. He greeted us, asked us our news. We 
told him of our projected journey. He became 
thoughtful and after a while said good-bye. We 



296 NOVI BAZAR 

took our convoy through the town to a field on the 
outskirts where we pitched the camp. 

We borrowed the corporal's axe and hewed for 
some time in a thorn hedge, without getting much 
profit but many prickles, and finally decided to 
take a paHng from a Turkish cemetery, for there 
was no one about. 

Soon we had a jolly fire, and Cutting and 
Whatmough got to work on the food. Dr. Holmes 
turned up. He had arrived the day before and 
had found lodgings in an inn. West's arm was 
still inflamed and very painful. The doctor looked 
at it and said it needed more incision. West and 
Miss Brindley went off with him. 

An old ragamuffin wandered up with a loaf of 
maize bread. He offered it to the corporal for 
three dinars ; but the corporal took it away and gave 
him two. The old man made a great outcry. We 
demanded the cause. The unlawful corporal was 
again hailed to justice, his corporalship seeming 
more valueless than ever, and to give him a lesson 
we bought the bread for three dinars, for it was 
worth it. 

We suddenly discovered that none of the Red 
Cross men had papers or passes. What was to be 
done ? We were conniving at an almost unlawful 
expedition, and Jan was very doubtful if we could 
cross the Montenegrin frontier. But after a con- 



HOTEL DE PARIS 297 

sultation we decided to bluff it into Montenegro if 
necessary, and then telegraph to Cettinje to help 
us out. 

It was now dark and West and Miss Brindley 
had not come back. So Jan and Jo went off to 
look for them. We searched two cafes — meeting 
again with our old acquaintance the schoolmaster 
from Nish — ^plunged into all sorts of odd corners, 
and at last met Colonel Stajitch in a restaurant. 
He greeted us. 

" I have a great favour to ask," he said diffi- 
dently. " If I might I should Hke to give to you 
a Httle appendix. It is my son. He is seventeen, 
but is very big for his age. If the Austrians 
catch him I do not know what will become of him." 

We were introduced to the boy, and at once 
consented. 

" I will decide for certain to-morrow," said the 
colonel. " Can I meet you at seven o'clock ? " 

We hunted once more for West. Ran him to 
earth at last in the Hotel de Paris. This hotel 
could perhaps have existed in the Butte de Mont- 
martre, but even there it would have been con- 
sidered a disgrace. We had to pass through a 
long room crammed with sleeping soldiery, stepping 
across them to get to the door opposite. Every 
window was tight shut, and after one horrified 
gulp we held our breath till we reached the interior 



298 



NO VI BAZAB 



courtyard. Here, too, were sleeping men, and all 
along the balconies and passages were more. 

We found Holmes' room. West was there, 
rather white and just recovering from the anaes- 
thetic. We sat down. Dr. Holmes had thought of 
coming with us, but the authorities had looked 
suspiciously at his passes, which were made out to 
Mitrovitza, so he decided to go on there. We wished 
that he had come, as a doctor would have been 
a great comfort had we really needed him. 

After a rest West was well enough to go back 
to the camp. 




CHAPTER XX 

THE UNKNOWN ROAD 

As we stood around the camp fire drinking our 
cocoa a queer ragged old Albanian crept up and 
watched us with a smile. He was the owner of 
the house near by, whose palings we had almost 
looted. We offered him cocoa, which he liked 
immensely ; and asked him about the road to 
Tutigne. He said — 

*' There is a road for carts — ^I know it." 

" Will you show it us ? " said Jo. 

He gave a wild yell and ran away, waving a 
stick. 

" What ? ! ! ! ! " 

It was nothing, only the pigs had invaded his 
cabbage patch. He came back later with an 
enormous apple, which he presented to Jo. 

" Have you apples for sale ? " 

He shook his head, saying " Ima, ima." 

We bought several pounds, arranged with him 
to guide us later to the carriage road, and hurried 
into the town to buy provisions. 

299 



300 THE UNKNOWN ROAD 

There we met Colonel Stajitcli. " Will you take 
my boy ? " 

" Delighted. Are his papers in order ? " 

The mayor hereupon turned up, and the 
colonel's face grew longer as they conversed. 

" The mayor cannot give me the necessary 
permits without Government sanction," he said. 
*' I must get it from Rashka by telephone. It 
will take an hour. Can you wait ? " 

We spent the time shopping. Each shop 
looked as empty as if it had been through a Saturday 
night's sale. One had elderly raisins, another had 
a few potatoes. We found some onions, bought 
another cooking pot and kitchen necessaries, and 
packed them in the carts which had arrived in the 
town. Nobody would take paper money unless we 
bought ten francs' worth. After waiting an hour 
and a half we hunted down the colonel. The 
telephone official told us he had got leave from the 
Government. At last we found him in the mayor's 
office, bristhng with papers and the passport. 

" I have got you an armed poHceman as escort," 
he said, waving the papers, " and the boy has a 
good horse, twenty pounds in gold, and twenty in 
silver." 

We found the boy waiting with the carriages. 
He wore a strange little brown cashmere Norfolk 
jersey and very superior black riding breeches. 



THE CAERIAGE ROAD 301 

Dressed more romantically he would liave made an 
ideal Prince for an Arabian Nights' story. His 
father accompanied us until our Albanian guide 
announced — 

" Here begins the carriage road." 

Their parting must have been a hard thing. 
The father could not tell how his son's expedition 
would end, and the son was leaving his father to 
an unknown fate. They embraced, smihng cheerily, 
and the boy rode on ahead of us all, blowing his 
nose and cursing his horse. 

In many places the " carriage road " was no road 
at all. The carts lurched and bumped over rivers, 
boulders, fields, and the inevitable mud. Several 
times we had to jump on our carts as they dragged 
us over deep and rapid rivers. After three hours 
we stopped at a farm, our mounted pohceman 
called out the owners and autocratically ordered 
two of the young men to accompany us as guides 
and guards. 

They came, bearing their guns, white fezzed, 
white clothed, black braided youths with shaven 
polls and flashing teeth. We began to chmb, and 
for hours and hours we toiled upwards. The 
carriages lumbered painfully far behind us, led by 
their elderly and panting drivers. 

*' If this is what they call a good and easy 
road," we thought, " it would have been better to 



302 THE UNKNOWN EOAD 

harness four horses to each cart, and to have left 
five carts behind." 

The horses came from the plain of Chabatz, and 
had probably never seen a hill in their lives. 

" These horses will die," said the corporal ; 
but he seemed more interested in hunting for water 
for himself than in the struggles of the poor beasts. 

One of our Albanian guides was overwhelmed 
with the beauty of Cutting's silver-plated revolver. 

" How much did you pay for it ? " 

" Thirty francs," said Cutting, shooting at the 
scenery. 

Jan produced his automatic, but the Albanian 
scorned it as one would turn from a lark to a bird 
of Paradise. He turned the glittering object over 
lovingly, thought, felt in his pockets, drew out a 
green and red knitted purse, and shook his head. 

" I will give you thirty francs." 

But Cutting wasn't on the bargain. He 
pocketed the treasure again, and we plodded on. 

** How far are we from Tutigne ? " we asked. 

" Four hours," said a dignified Albanian, who 
had joined our party. 

" No, two hours," said another. 

" Three at most," corrected a third. 

The first man lifted his hand. " I say four 
hours, and it is four hours. With such horses 
as these we crawl. ' ' 



MUD-MUD 303 

We reached a desolate tableland at dusk. Here 
the horses halted for some while. With the halt 
came a sudden desire to stay there for good. It 
seemed as if we should never reach Tutigne. 
The evening brought with it chilly damp breezes, 
and the footsore company was getting quite dis- 
heartened. 

" Let us camp here," said everybody. 

But the poKceman had a mailbag to dehver 
that night, and we had to push on. Experienced 
as we were in Serbian roads, never had we seen 
such mud. Down, down sank our feet, and we 
could only extract them again cUnging to the carts 
with the sound of a violent kiss. We tried to 
escape it by climbing into the thick brushwood, 
only to find it again, stickier and more sUppery, 
while the bushes grasped us with thorny arms 
and athletically switched our faces. A moonless 
darkness came upon us and we had to walk just 
behind the carriages, peering at the square yard of 
road illuminated by candles in our penny lanterns. 

Occasionally a voice greeted us. We asked how 
far Tutigne was. 

** About an hour," was the invariable answer 
all along the Hne. 

But the dignified guide was right. After four 
hours we reached the main street, arriving slowly 
to the music of incredible clatter as our httle carts 



304 THE UNKNOWN EOAD 

leapt and jolted over hundreds of big pointed stones 
laid carefully side by side — Tutigne's concession 
to Macadam. 

There were faint Hghts in some of the Httle 
wooden houses. Others stood dark and un- 
friendly. We stopped. Curses filled the air. An 
ox-cart was lying right across the road. After 
shouting himself hoarse the pohceman woke up 
an old man in a house near by — the owner. He 
rheumatically grumbled in his doorway; so the 
gendarme called our Albanians, and in two twos 
they had turned the cart upside down in a ditch, 
saying — 

" It serves you right." 

Voices sounded in the darkness. The carriages 
lurched on. Presently they left the road and turned 
on to grass, they seemed to be leaving the village 
behind. We did not know where they were going, 
and were so tired that we did not care, if only they 
would get somewhere and stop, which at last they 
did. We jumped off into a squelch of water. 

" Good heavens, this won't do ! " 

We searched the whole field for a dry spot, but 
though it was a hillside, it was a swamp. We 
chose the least marshy place and built a fire. 

" Where is the mayor ? " we asked of the strange 
faces dimly to be seen in the light of our fire. 

They pointed to two cottage window lights. 



A SHELTER 305 

We went towards them, at last realizing our 
proximity by stumbling into a dung-heap and 
knocking against a pig-stye. There was a narrow 
stairway, and above it a big landing, A man 
followed and knocked at a door for us. 

The mayor appeared — a Httle man — square in 
face, hair, beard and figure. 

We explained ourselves and showed our letter. 
He looked grave at our demand for horses; said 
we would talk it over on the morrow, and sym- 
pathized about the swampy field. 

" Would you Hke to sleep here on the floor ? " 
he said, showing us a clean-looking office. *' We 
regret we have no beds." . 

We were dehghted. His wife, who had gone 
to bed, appeared in a striped petticoat and a second 
one worn as a shawl. 

" The tables shall be moved and the stove lit," 
she said. " It will be ready in a few minutes." 

We picked our way back to the fire, avoiding 
the dung-heap and pig-stye, whereby we nearly 
fell into a cesspool. Cocoa was brewing, one card- 
house had been erected as a shelter for some of 
our things. The drivers were crouched round their 
own fire cooking something. It was difficult to 
find our bundles in the carts as one only recognized 
them by the drivers. We chmbed in feehng about 
by the hght of a match. Jo found a foot in one. 

X 



306 THE UNKNOWN ROAD 

" How can we find things with people lying on 
them ? " she said to the foot. 

It remained immobile ; she pulled it — ^no 
response. She tugged it. A face hfted itself at 
the far end of the cart. It was the corporal's wife 
lying on her own possessions, very tired and rather 
cross. Jo patted her remorsefully and decamped. 

We must have looked hke a regiment of gnomes 
bearing forbidden treasure as we hobbled through 
the darkness, laden with our bundles of blankets. 
The Hght in the office nearly bhnded us, and the 
heat from the stove struck us hke a violent blow. 
The mayor, his wife, two hurriedly dressed children 
and several other people received us. There was 
an awkward silence. Jo murmured in the back- 
ground — 

" It is manners here to go up, shake hands, and 
say one's name." 

Very uncomfortably everybody did so, one by 
one. Another silence. We racked our brains — ^the 
weather — our journey — the war. One had nothing 
sensible to say about anything. Jo asked the 
children's age. The information was supphed. 
Silence. We filled the gap by smihng. At last 
the mayor's wife said we must be worn out, and 
they all left us. 

The mayor crept back. " Don't talk about the 
miHtary situation," he said ; '' if these Turks knew 



PACKING IN 307 

it they might kill us all." Then he shut the 
door. 

We flew to a window and opened it, changed 
our stockings, hung wet boots and socks over the 
stove, ate bully beef, and rolled up, pillowing our 
heads on our little sackS' — thirteen sleepy people. 

The mayor's wife opened the door an inch and 
peeped at us as we lay, looking, indeed, more hke 
a jumble sale than anything. Mawson wore a 
Burglar cap tied under his chin, and a collection of 
khaki mufflers, looking equipped for a Channel 
crossing. Miss Brindley's head was tied up in a 
bandana handkerchief; Jo's in a purple oilsilk 
hood; others shared mackintosh sheets and blankets; 
West pulled his Serbian cap right down to his 
mouth. Jan put on the white mackintosh dressing- 
coat, over that his greatcoat, then he spread out a 
red, green, yellow and black striped Serbian rug, 
rolled up in it with many contortions, and pushed 
his feet into a tent bag. Blease in a Balaklava, 
showing nose Hke an Arctic explorer, got into a 
black oilskin, one corner of which had been 
repaired with a large yellow patch, he then rolled 
up in oddments collected from the company, 
as his own overcoat had been stolen, and bound it 
all together by tying the many coloured knitted 
rug around him, after putting the lamp out in- 
advertently with his head. 



308 THE UNKNOWN ROAD 

In the morning we interviewed the mayor. 
He read and reread the letter from the Novi 
Bazar mayor, took an interest in the social 
supremacy of Stajitch's father, who was a man of 
birth, but said he had no horses. 

Jo appealed to his better feehngs. He scratched 
his head. 

" Yes, truly one must try to help the Enghsh," 
he said, but looked very glum. 

" I will have the neighbouring hamlets searched 
for horses." 

We thanked him and wandered into the village 
cafe. An old man with black sprouting eye- 
brows a la Nick Winter, was sitting there. He had 
walked for five days, eating only apples. 

" Very good food too," he said. " Here is my 
luggage." 

He pointed to a knotted handkerchief contain- 
ing a tiny loaf of bread which he had just acquired. 
His goal was a monastery in Montenegro, where he 
said they would house and feed him for the winter 
in exchange for a Httle work. 

At 11.30 three horses were brought. Three 
more were promised, so we reluctantly decided to 
start the next day. There was nothing to do. 

Our carriages went. We gave the corporal a 
card-house to take back to Rashka with httle faith 
that he would not try to stick to it. He had not 



INTRODUCES THE PROFESSOR 309 

returned the boots to their owner, so we took them 
from him and gave them to their rightful owner, 
and handed over to the corporal a spare pair of 
our own boots to keep him honest. 

At dawn Stajitch, who had been sleeping in 
style upon a friend's table, came to say we had six 
horses, but a professor had turned up in the night 
and was coming with us. He had been so ex- 
hausted with the walk that his poHceman had 
carried him most of the way. Not pleased, we 
went to inspect him. He was small, corpulent, 
and was sitting with clasped woolly gloves, goloshed 
feet, and a diffident smile. 

He explained to us that he was dehcate, and 
as he was no walker it would be necessary for him 
to ride one horse. So we packed our food, sacks, 
blankets, mackintoshes and the card-house as best 
we could on the remaining five horses. 

No sooner had we left the village, and all signs 
of road or bridle path, with a new pohceman and 
two or three ragged Albanians, than one of the 
horses broke loose and began to dance — first the 
tango, then the waltz. The pack, which was but 
insecurely attached, stood the tango, but with the 
waltz a bag of potatoes swung loose at the end of 
a rope, its gyroscopic action swinging the horse 
quicker and quicker until it was spinning on one 
toe. Then the girths broke, saddle and all came 



310 THE UNKNOWN KOAD 

to the ground. The brute looked round as if saying 
" That's that/' and cantered off, followed slowly 
by the professor on horseback. We called. He 
appeared to take no notice. At last he turned 
round saying — 

" The horse will not." 

Jo leapt in the air kicking. 

" Do that with your heels," she said. 

But we had to send the pohceman to help 
him. He rode hour by hour, hitting his beast 
with a bent umbrella, and Hfting two fat hands 
to heaven. 

" Teshko " (It is hard), he whined. 

" Ni je teshko " (It is not hard), said Miss 
Brindley, cheerfully trudging along. 

We wanted to stop at the top of a hill for lunch. 

" Horrible," he said. " Here the brigands will 
shoot us from the bushes," and pushed ahead, 
being held on by the grinning pohceman. 

We pulled out some biscuits and margarine, 
and drank water from our bottles, cigarettes went 
round, and we charged ahead. In front was the 
professor falHng off his horse and being put on 
again. 

We were very anxious about the frontier. 
Most of our party were travelhng without official 
permits, as they had known nothing about such 
things ; but we hoped that being English Ked Cross 



THE AEEEST 311 

and having passports there would not be much 
trouble. We arrived at a little village, three or 
four wooden houses. Three pompous old men 
came to meet us, and we took cofiee together 
outside the inn. They were very surprised to hear 
we were EngHsh, and said that no Enghsh had ever 
passed that way before. 

At the frontier, an hour further on, a man and 
his wife came down from a Httle house on the hill 
and stopped us. They examined the papers of 
the two Serbs, but left us alone, to our huge rehef . 
We breathed again. 

Soon after, however, Whatmough rushed up to 
Jan and Jo, who were talking to a ragged woman. 
" Do come and talk. An officer has arrested 
West and Mawson." 

We ran ahead to find a perplexed mounted 
officer surrounded by our party. He had come upon 
West and Mawson walking on ahead and took them 
to be Bulgarian comitaj . 

" No, that's not an Enghsh uniform," he said, 
and searched them for firearms. When the others 
came he wavered. Miss Brindley did not look hke 
a comitaj ; and by the time we arrived he began to 
talk about the mihtary situation in the Balkans, 
and rode off with the pohtest of farewells. 

If there isn't a telegraph wire to guide, don't 
take short cuts. Jan, Stajitch, and Jo tried to 



312 THE UNKNOWN KOAD 

race the darkness by cutting straight down a ravine. 
We lost the horses, lost every one else, and we 
came out again on to a hill crest. No one was to 
be seen. After a while the professor rode by, led 
by his pohceman, who had been almost suffocated 
by laughter all day. 

" Teshko, teshko," moaned the professor. 

" Ni je teshko," we said. " But where are the 
horses ? " 

He waved a hand vaguely behind him. Rogerson, 
Whatmough, and Owen came up. It was getting 
dark and a mist was rising. So we left the three 
at the corner to mark where it was and went back. 
For a long time we stumbled in the darkness, 
shouting, but no horses could we find. At last 
we decided to turn back, wondering if they too had 
lost their way and decided to camp out. There 
were shouts in the valley beyond. A hght flashed 
and some one fired off a revolver. There was a 
candle end in Jan's bag, and by its dim Hght we 
found a road. It went downwards, so we thought 
it might be the right one. Suddenly it turned in 
the wrong direction, but as there were hoof marks 
on it we decided to follow it as it must lead some- 
where — we could not search the whole countryside 
with a candle. Just as we were in despair the road 
seemed to shake itself and twisted back again. 
We heard more shouting and saw a Hght, and at 



THE INN 313 

last found Miss Brindley and Mawson, who were 
waiting for us. 

'' We have been to the village," they said. 

We asked them about the horses. They said 
they were all there ! ! ! ! 

That professor again ! 

Some one heard trickhng water, and with a cry 
of joy we put our mouths under the jet of water 
which spouted from a little trough which jutted 
from the hill. Nothing could be seen of the village 
when we arrived, but it seemed very long and very 
stony. An old peasant with a candle led us for 
what seemed miles between high pahsades of wood 
until we reached the inn. 

There was a big room with a stove in the middle 
and many Montenegrins in uniform were sitting 
about. Some of our party were already asleep, 
worn out on the benches. We opened a tin of beef, 
got some bread and kaimack and woke up the 
others for their evening meal. While we were eating 
a Montenegrin staff officer said — 

" Your commandant, the professor " 

" What ? " said we. 

" Your commandant, the professor, has said 
you will rest here to-morrow." 

We told him the professor was no commandant 
of ours, and that we certainly would not rest there 
to-morrow. 



314 



THE UNKNOWN ROAD 



" AVell," said the staff officer, " he has certainly 
ordered horses for the day after from the captain." 

We were too tired to rectify matters at once, 
and our meal finished, we rolled up on the dirty 
floor. 




CHAPTER XXI 

THE FLEA-PIT 

Those comfortable folks who have never slept out 
of a bed do not know how annoying a blanket may 
be, if there is nothing into which to tuck its folds. 
Wrap yourself up in one, lie flat and motionless 
on the floor, and we guarantee that in an hour the 
blanket has unrolled itseK and is making frantic 
efforts to escape. Every night on the road resolved 
into a half-dazed attempt to hold on to the elusive 
wrap. Sleep came in as a second consideration, 
and when we say we awoke on any particular 
morning, it really means that we got up, though 
several of us in the intervals of blanket catching did 
get in a snore or two. 

Well, we got up, then, in good time next day, 
hoping to rectify the professor's interference, and 
stumbhng along with Stajitch, we reached the high- 
roofed " Diirer " dwelhng where resided the com- 
mandant of the village. In the kitchen we found 
two women with bare feet, two children and a man 
half undressed. He brought in the captain, also 

315 



316 THE FLEA-PIT 

in negligee. Now, mark, we were in Montenegro. 
We exposed our grievance to the captain and 
roundly denounced the professor as an interfering 
old beggar. The captain first gave us coffee, 
second hurried us to his office, third called in three 
henchmen and issued rapid orders. 

" Certainly, certainly. You shall have all the 
horses you need. Just only wait one httle quarter 
of an hour. I will give you four poHcemen to go 
with you." 

We protested that four was too many. 

" No, no," he said, " you had better have 
four." 

We went back joyfully to the hotel. Cutting or 
one of the others had been exploring and had gotten 
twenty eggs. The hotel people consented to cook 
them. While we were outside looking at the 
mosques and wondering when the horses were 
coming, the professor walked into the bar-room. 

" Ah," said he, " eggs." 

" They belong to the Enghsh," said the 
hostess. 

'' Good," said the professor, and swallowed 
four. 

Just then we returned. 

" But there are only sixteen eggs," said we. 

" The professor has eaten the others," said the 
woman, pointing. 



THE PEOFESSOR AND THE EGGS 317 

In a minute the professor wished that he had 
not. Jan took the opportunity of saying a few 
things which had been boihng within him. He 
accused the wretched man of interference in 
assuming control of the expedition ; he said that 
he was a mere hanger-on, and a useless and selfish 
one at that. 

The professor wilted. He made a thousand 
apologies, and finally ran ofi wringing his fat 
hands, found with great difficulty four more eggs 
and cast them into the boihng water. 

" There," he said, " you can have your four 
eggs." 

" It's not the eggs," answered Jan, *' it's 

you." 

Jo was roaring with laughter. Some of the 
morning she had been in a woman's house Hstening 
to one of the pohceman's tales of the professor, 
and soon the whole village was rocking with 
amusement at '" Teshko." 

At last the horses arrived — six miserable- 
looking beasts, but this time all had shoes. One 
was commandeered by the professor. 

" He is the greatest philosopher in all Serbia," 
whispered an official to Jan. 

" Ah, I guessed there must be some reason," 
said Jan. 

We had a~send-ofi, all the village came to see 



318 THE FLEA-PIT 

us go away. The day was a repetition of our 
previous experiences. A long tramp in the mud. 
At the top of the highest pass we had yet reached 
was an old wooden blockhouse. 

We came upon it unexpectedly, rounding a 
corner. Montenegrin soldiers were cooking at a 
wood fire ; but we were surprised to find all round 
the square log cabin deep rifle pits, the best we 
had yet seen in Serbia. 

" Good Lord, what are those f or ? " said 
Jan. 

" This is an old Turkish post," said the 
sergeant. " It has been kept up. We don't know 
why." 

We walked ofi meditating. Montenegrins do 
not squander soldiers without reason ; and then 
one's mind went back to the four armed guards 
who were accompanying us. 

We discovered the truth later, let us tell the 
story here. 

Berane, to which we were descending, was once 
a populous growing Turkish town. After the Balkan 
war it fell into Montenegrin territories. The Monte- 
negrins chased out all the Turkish landowners, who 
fled to these mountains, where they formed bands of 
brigands and caused no little consternation and 
trouble to the authorities, who could not catch 
them. The authorities passed a httle Act, 



THE PROFESSOR AND THE SNOW 319 

reinstating the landowners in their territories; 
but when an attempt was made to put the Act 
into force, it was found that the authorities 
themselves were in possession of the lands. What 
was to be done ? The blockhouse was the 
solution. 

We stopped at a primitive cafe and lunched. 
Jo gave the children some chocolate. They did 
not know what it was. She smeared some on to 
the baby's Hps, and after that it sucked hard. 
Soon the Httle girl Hcked hers ; but the boy, more 
suspicious, would not eat, holding the lump till it 
melted into a sticky mass in his fingers. The scenery 
was very beautiful. There was a faint rain which 
greyed everything, and the near birches had lost 
all their leaves and the twigs made a reddish fog 
through which could be seen the slopes of the 
opposite hillsides. The professor began to be 
worried about the rain. 

" If this should turn to snow," said he, " we 
would be snowed up. And I am sure I don't know 
what I should do if I were snowed up." 

We hoped to reach our halting place, which was 
called Vrbitza, before dark; but it was further 
away than our informant had said. Once more 
we found ourselves floundering about in the mud 
of the village path after dusk. We reached houses 
which we could not see ; walked over sHppery poles 



320 THE FLEA-PIT 

set over heaven knows what middens. Clambered 
up creaky steps into the usual sort of dirty wooden 
room — ^and there, his stockings off, warming his 
toes at the blaze of the wood fire, was " Eye- 
brows." 

We were immediately attracted by three paint- 
ings on the wall. They were decorative designs, 
very beautiful. We asked the proprietor who had 
done them. 

" I did," he said. 

" Will you sell them ? " we asked. 

He giggled like a girl. '* Ah, who would buy 
them ? " he said. 

" We will." 

" I couldn't let you have them for less than 
sixpence," he said. " You see the papers cost a 
penny each." 

Whatmough coveted one, so he had his choice, 
we took the other two. 

The poHceman came to tell us that rooms had 
been prepared in two clean houses. We scrambled 
out into the dark again, stumbled along in the mud, 
and at last found an open square of Hght, through 
which we came into a room. 

There was a red rug over half the floor, and a 
brasier on three legs filled with charcoal standing 
in the centre. One or two of our men had already 
found the place and were lying on the rug. In 



THE PKOFESSOR AND THE ROOMS 321 

one corner was a large baking oven like a 
beehive, half in one and half in the room next 
door. A wide shelf ran from the beehive almost 
to the open door. There were two small windows, 
each about the size of this book wide open. 
Jan and Jo sniffed. Where had they smelt that 
odour before ? 

An old woman in Albanian costume crept up 
to Jo and caught her by the skirt. 

"" See," she said, dragging her into the next 
room, " here is a fine bed. The ladies will sleep 
with me this night." 

Jo looked at the old lady's greasy hair and 
filthy raiment. 

" We always sleep with our own people," she 
said firmly. 

The old lady protested. All the while our men 
were packing the baggage beneath the shelf. It 
was a tight fit, but at last it was got in. 

The professor entered once more on the scene. 

" This house will do very well for the common 
people," he said, "but the Herr Commandant" 
(meaning Jan) " and the two ladies will come over 
to sleep with me." 

*' No, we won't," said Jan, Jo and Miss Brindley 
in one voice. 

" Then what will you do ? " 

" We will give you two pohcemen, or all four if 



322 THE FLEA-PIT 

you like. We will pack in here somehow. You 
can take the other house all to yourself." 

" That will not do," said the professor. " If 
you are all determined to sleep here, I too, will 
come here. You will need somebody to protect 
you." 

Jo's back went up. 

" If you are afraid to sleep in the other house," 
she said, " you can sleep here with us. But if you 
are coming here to protect us, we don't require 

?/0M." 

" But you do not understand," said the pro- 
fessor kindly, as if to a child : " there is danger. 
You will need me to protect you." 

" Not in the least," answered Jo. " If you will 
say that you are afraid, we will offer you our shelter. 
Otherwise you can have all four pohcemen at the 
other house," 

The professor was afraid to say that he was 
afraid, so after stating that we were curious people, 
he went ofi with the guards. 

With great diflS.culty we packed in. Cutting and 
Whatmough were forced to chmb on to the shelf 
and the brazier was pushed out of the room. One 
by one we rolled up in our rugs, made pillows out 
of a pair of boots or a cocoa tin, cursed each other 
for taking up so much space, and at last all were 
jammed together like sardines. It was like the 



AN ALBANIAN HOUSE 323 

family in the drawing : If father says turn, we 
all turn. 

We did not rest well. Thirteen people in a 
room which would comfortably hold three was a 
little too close packing. There was a lot of 
grumbling coming from one corner, and after a 
while a Hght was struck. 

" Good lord," said somebody, " my pillow's 
crawhng ! " 

Bugs were cascading down the walls. Stajitch 
jumped to his feet, and began stamping hard. 
" Rivers of them," he yelled. 

Cutting and Whatmough were groaning about 
the heat, so we opened the door. Immediately all 
the dogs of the village, half wolves, hurled them- 
selves at the lighted space. Stajitch slammed it 
just in time ; had they burst in, lying down as we 
were, we should have been unable to protect 
ourselves. 

A dark face peered in between the baking oven 
and the wall, a swarthy Albanian face. It looked 
at us and then silently withdrew. 

" It doesn't matter," said somebody at last, 
" we've got to stick it." 

We roused up neither rested nor refreshed. 
The room seen in the dim hght of the morning 
seemed even more revolting than it had been the 
night before. We demanded the bill, it was brought 



324 THE FLEA-PIT 

— five francs for apples which we had bought. 
And for the room ? Nothing. We gave our host 
three francs extra, and he bowed, putting his hands 
to his bosom and kissed our palms. 

There was a good stiff clay soil waiting for our 
tiring feet, and by the time we reached Berane, 
there was no thought of going further. Almost 
every one was exhausted. 

We reached the shores of the river. The bridge 
had been washed away, but the inhabitants had 
made a boat hke a sort of huge wooden shoe which 
they dragged to and fro with ropes. We clambered 
in and were hauled over. Our baggage had not 
yet arrived, so Jan and Stajitch ordered lunch for 
the others and went down to see about it. Just 
as they were landed on the opposite bank the rope 
broke. So all the Montenegrins and Albanians 
who were working the ferry went off to a midday 
meal, leaving the two with the pangs of hunger 
growhng within, sitting on the bank. 

After two hours' waiting the rope was repaired, 
and they got back to lunch famishing. We then 
arranged sleeping places and locked up all the 
baggage in an empty shop. Our room was one of 
those ordinary Montenegrin bedrooms plastered 
with pictures. Amongst them was a postcard, 
and on it was printed large in EngHsh in blue 
crystalhne letters, " Never Again." 



NEVEE AGAIN 325 

Whence did it come, this enigmatic postcard, 
and what did it mean ? It seemed almost a solemn 
warning ; yet in a hotel bedroom. What did the 
hostess think it meant ? 

" Never Again." 

Some of the men came in cheering, having found 
Turkish dehght in one of the shops. We were 
sadly needing sugar, as our last tin had been stolen 
along with lots of other things. So we indulged 
in " Turkish " not wisely. 

The professor got up to his old games again. 
Again he had told the commandant that he was 
leading the British, and that we would rest the 
next day, and again Jan had to pick him off his 
perch. 

Some got a bed that night, the others had to 
sleep " in rows," half under the beds and half 
projecting out. The people on the beds said it was 
a funny sight. 

When we unpacked at night we found who 
had been robbing us. The poHcemen. We had 
missed many more things, but found that the 
amount varied in direct ratio to the number of 
pohce who guarded us. All our spare boots 
were now gone, Blease's overcoat, and also Miss 
Brindley's. Jo had lost her only other coat and 
skirt, and one or two mackintoshes were missing. 
Now we knew why the poHce wore long-skirted 



326 THE FLEA-PIT 

coats; but what a disappointment the one must 
have had who hfted Jo's coat and skirt. 

Got off again in good time the next morning. 
Cutting and three others stayed behind to look 
after the pohce. Lucky they did, because one of 
the horses wore out, and the pohce would have 
left it on the road, pack and all. As it was we 
left the horse grazing, but the baggage was 
transferred. 

There had been a decentish level road made from 
Andrievitza half way to Berane, and women were 
working hard on the extension in the hopes of 
getting it finished for the Serbs ; but that they could 
never do, for there were but few of them. Further 
on many of the bridges were unfinished, and in one 
or two places a landshde had carried away the road 
itself, leaving a deep clinging mud in its place, but 
we were getting used to mud. 

We met " Eyebrows " once more, just at the 
entrance to the village; but he was going on to 
Pod, so had finally got a day ahead of us. Found 
rooms in our old resting place. 

The professor was threatening to accompany us 
to Italy — ^he was hke the old man of the sea. We 
got a telegram from the Enghsh Minister, saying 
that he did not think we could ever get to Italy 
from Scutari. We preferred to trust to our luck 
which so far had been wonderful, especially in the 



TKANSPORT 



327 



matter of weather. In the evening the captain 
sent to say that twenty horses would await us the 
next day. A motor car would have been sent, 
he added, but almost all the bridges were washed 
away and they could get no nearer than Lieva 
Rieka. 




CHAPTER XXII 

ANDRIEVITZA TO POD 

A PROBLEM met US in the morning. Willett was 
quite ill and only fit for bed. But bed was im- 
possible. We had just escaped from the sound of 
the guns, and did not know which way the Austrians 
were coming. To wait was too risky ; others would 
certainly get seedy and sooner or later some one 
might get seriously ill. We felt we must push 
on to Podgoritza and be within hail of doctor and 
chemist. But Willett looked very wretched, lying 
flat and refusing breakfast. 

We pHed him with chlorodyne ; but the chloro- 
dyne did not hke him and they parted company. 
We tried chlorodyne followed by brandy with better 
effect. Others also showed a distinct interest 
in the chlorodyne bottle. We felt very anxious : 
milk was almost unprocurable, other comforts nil. 

We finally decided that if he was going to have 
dysentery he had better have it decently and in 
order at Podgoritza, than stand the chance of being 
suddenly surprised by the Austrians and made to 

328 



THE START 329 

walk endless distances. So we heaved him on to 
a wooden pack, and the other chlorodyney figures 
of woe cHmbed on to the remaining queer-looking 
saddles. 

Blease tried a horse which had a thoughtful 
eye. It kicked him on the knee, and trod on his 
toe, so he rehnquished the joy of riding for the 
serener pleasure of walking. Jan clambered on to 
it, whereupon it stood on its forelegs, and as there 
were no stirrups and the saddle back hit him 
behind, he landed over its neck, remaining there 
propped up by a stick which was in his hand. 
After readjusting himself inside the two wooden 
peaks of the saddle, he testified his disapproval to 
the beast, and trotted away in style, leaving a row 
of grinning Montenegrins and boys behind with 
the exception of one who clung to reins and other 
bits of saddlery, imploring him to stop. It would 
seem as if pack ponies were never meant to trot, 
but at last he shook off the pony boy, passed Miss 
Brindley (whose horse was looking at himself in 
a puddle with such deep and concentrated interest 
that he pulled her over his head and landed her in 
the middle of the water), and reached the vanguard 
of the party, who had deserted their horses for a 
hft on a lorry — Willett, sitting in front with the 
driver, was shrunk hke a concertina inside his 
great coat. 



330 ANDEIEVITZA TO POD 

The lorry dropped us just before the first broken 
bridge. Then we had to leave the road and face 
mud slush, chmbing for hours. We had picked 
up various friends — a courtly old peasant who was 
very worried to hear that Kragujevatz had fallen, 
and feared for the invasion of Montenegro; two 
barefoot girls, who asked Jo all the usual questions, 
and an American-spealdng Serbian man who had 
trudged from Ipek, the first refugee on that road 
from Serbia. He was very mysterious, and contrary 
to the usual custom, would not tell us about himself 
nor where he was going. 

He was very anxious to stand us drinks, but 
curiously enough, every one refused. The professor 
had started before us, with a Greek priest. When 
we passed him he lifted his hands deprecatingly, 
" Teshko." 

Our hopes of arriving before dark were as 
usual crushed. The dusk found us still flounder- 
ing in the mud on wayside paths. It began 
to pour. The hills above us became white — a 
straight fine being drawn between snow and rain — 
and our guides wanted us to spend the night at 
an inn two hours before we reached Jabooka. 
But it looked very uninviting — we remembered 
the cheery hostess of Jabooka, the woman who 
came from " other parts," and knew a thing or two 
about cleanhness. Every one agreed to go on. 



JABOOKA 331 

Willett was rather better, so we forged ahead in 
the downpour and the dark, splashing through 
puddles and singing everything we knew. Our 
Albanian guides chuckled and chanted their own 
nasal songs in a different key as an accompaniment. 

Far away we saw a tiny Hght^ — ^Jabooka. We 
stretched our legs and hurried along, but alas! 
the inn room was full. There was the professor, 
his face shining from warmth and well-being, crowds 
of men in uniform, some fat travelhng civihans: 
faces looked up from the floor, from the corners, 
faces were everywhere, wet boys were steaming 
in front of the fire, while the hostess and a girl 
were picking their way as best they could in the 
tobacco smoke with eggs and rakia. 

Full ; even the floor ! and we were wet through. 
The professor had announced that we were staying 
at the dirty inn away back. Oh, the old villain ! 

He came forward, saying in an impressive 
voice that a major had taken the inn. 

*' Bother the major," said Jo. " Something 
must be done." 

The professor smiled. " There is another inn." 

There was nothing for it. We had to go to the 
inn across the road, glad enough to have a roof at 
all. The rain was tearing down as if the heavens 
were filled with fije-engines. 

But they didn't want us there. We beheld 



332 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD 

a dirty low-ceiled room filled with filthy people and 
a smell of wet unwashed clothes. 

The owner and his wife received us roughly. 
" We have no room, we have nothing," they said. 

We stood our ground. *' We must have a roof 
to-night." 

Outside the road had become a river, our men 
were nearly dropping with fatigue. 

" You can't come here," said the innkeeper, 
looking at us with great distrust. 

The major, whom Jo had " bothered," came 
in. '' You must take these people," he said, and 
asked various searching questions about the rooms. 

Reluctantly the truth came out that if the whole 
family slept in one room there would be one for us. 
The major ordered them to do it. Jo wished 
she hadn't " bothered " him quite so gruffly. 

The daughters stamped about, furiously pulhng 
all the blankets off the two beds, while one of 
them stood in the doorway watching us to see 
that we did not secrete the greasy counterpanes. 
Several of the party sat, hair on end, with staring 
eyes, too tired to shut them. 

'' Food % " 

" Nema Nishta," was the response. 

" Can we boil water ? " 

'' No." 

*' Where can we boil it ? " 



UNWELCOME GUESTS S33 

" Nowhere." 

" But there is a fire in the kitchen," we said, 
pointing to a hooded fireplace where a few sticks 
were burning. 

"Why shouldn't they boil water ? " said a kindly 
looking man. 

" Well, I suppose they can," said the old 
woman, who became almost pleasant over the 
kitchen fixe — ^telhng Jo she was sixty and only a 
stara Baba (old granny). 

Miss Brindley made tea. We cheered as she 
brought it in. Tea, bully beef, and our last biscuits 
comprised our dinner, which we ate in big gulps, 
after which we sang *' Three bhnd mice " as a 
digestive. 

The half-open door was full of peering faces, so 
somewhat encouraged we gave them a selection 
of rounds. 

We left next morning early in a heavy downpour, 
after being exorbitantly charged, glad to leave 
Jabooka for ever. 

The professor was before us, an aged red Riding 
Hood, clad in his scarlet blanket. The day was 
long and uneventful. Trudge, trudge, splash, splash. 
The dividing fine between snow and rain still was 
heavily marked, but it sleeted and our hands were 
quite numbed. We crossed an angry stream on a 
greasy pole and most of us splashed in. Whatmough 



334 ANDEIEVITZA TO POD 

stood in the water, remarking, "I'm wet and 
I'll get no wetter," and helped people across. 
Again after dark we arrived at Lieva Bieka, to find 
our dirty old inn again ; but it had a real iron stove 
which gave out a glorious heat, and we crowded 
around in the ill-ht room, clouds of steam arising 
from us. We tried to dry our stockings against 
the stove pipe, but the old mother did not approve. 
She was afraid of fire. When she ran out of the 
room, socks were pressed surreptitously against 
the pipe with a " sizz," and when she returned, 
innocent looking people were standing against the 
wall, no socks to be seen. 

The eldest daughter settled down with her head 
in Jo's lap, having failed to get Miss Brindley 

alongside. She gazed longingly at Miss Brindley 

from Jo's lap, and asking for all the data possible 

as to her fife. 

" A devoika (girl), free, travelhng from a 

country so far away that it would take three months 

in an oxcart to get there." 
" Oh, how wonderful ! " 
They gave us a tiny room and two benches — ■ 

much too small for the whole company; so some 

slept outside on the balcony. 

The professor was in the adjoining inn, so we 

guessed it must be the best ; but a young French 

sailor, from the wireless in Podgoritza, who came 



LIEVA EIEKA TO POD 335 

to gossip with us, said there was nothing to 
choose. 

He was champing, as the Government were 
commandeering the wireless company's motor 
cars right and left using them to cart benzine ; and 
now they were going to send a refugee Serb ofiS.cer's 
family to Podgoritza in his motor, leaving him 
sitting. 

We spent the next morning waiting for the 
motor, not knowing if it would arrive or no. The 
professor sailed away in the French one, being one 
up on us again. It still rained, so we sat con- 
templating the possibiHties of lunch. No sooner 
was it on the boil than the biggest automobile 
in Montenegro, a covered lorry, turned up. 

We persuaded the driver to lunch with us, and 
packed ourselves and our dingy packages on to 
the wet floor. The motor buzzed up and downhill, 
incessantly twisting and turning : what we could 
see of the view from the back waved to and fro 
Hke Alpine scenery seen in the cinematograph. 
Stajitch became violently seasick with the fumes 
of benzine, which arose from two big tanks we 
were taking along, and lay with his head lolhng 
miserably out of the back of the car. 

Pod once more, sleepy, inhospitable Pod. 

We bargained for rooms at our old inn — mixed 
beds and floors. The owner was asking more than 



336 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD 

ever ; he shrugged his shoulders and raised his 
hands. 

" The war' — increasing prices." 

So we took what we could, put Stajitch to bed, 
saw the prefect, our old friend from Chainitza, 
who promised us a carriage for Cettinje in the 
morning. 

Miss Brindley, joyfully ready to see Cettinje 
and anything else that might turn up, joined Jo and 
Jan in the old shandrydan carriage which lumbered 
along for seven hours to Cettinje. 

" We are going to find Turkish dehght," said 
the others, as they disappeared down a side street, 
revelhng in the idea of a rest. 

Cettinje was inches deep in water. We assured 
the Count de Salis that much as we needed money 
to continue the journey, we needed baths more. 

This was a weighty matter and needed much 
thinking out, petroleum being very scarce. The 
huge empty Legation kitchen stove was ht and upon 
it were placed all the kettles, saucepans, and empty 
tins in the place; the picturesque old baggy-breeched 
porter, his wife, and httle boy stoking hard, and 
asking lots of questions. One by one we were 
ushered into a room, not the bathroom but a room 
containing the sort of comfortable bath which makes 
the least water go the longest way, and also a 
beautiful hot stove. This solemn rite occupied 



THE BATH 337 

a whole afternoon. We had not taken our clothes 
off for sixteen days and had been in the dirtiest 
of places. A change of underclothing was effected. 
None too soon ! for at Lieva Eieka we had picked 
up Kce. 

We compared notes on this part afterwards. 
*' Happy hunting ? " we inquired hke Mowgh's 
friends. It was good to sit by the big kitchen 
stove holding bits of dripping clothing to the 
blaze ; the downfall at Cettinje the evening 
before having completely drenched our damp 
things again. 

Next day outside the world was white and 
silent, the snow covering the little city and its 
intrigues with a thick whitewash. 

The minister was the kindest of hosts and could 
not do enough for us during our stay. Cettinje 
had not changed much. The hotel-keeper showed 
an intense and violent anxiety to leave Montenegro. 
Never had his native Switzerland seemed so 
alluring and never was it so unattainable. The 
chemist, who owned a Httle one-windowed shop, 
was engaged to the king's niece, quite a lift in 
the world for her, as she was marrying a man 
of education. 

Penwiper, the dog, was still in sole possession 

of the street, and again went mad with joy at the 

sound of English women's voices, and accompanied 

z 



338 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD 

us everywhere, generally upside-down in the snow, 
clutching our skirts with her teeth. 

Jan was in and out of the Transport 0£B.ce 
door while Miss Brindley and Jo were being fol- 
lowed around the streets by a jeering crowd of 
children, who seemed to think that Miss Brindley's 
india-rubber boot-top leggings and Jo's corrugated 
stockings and safety-pinned-up skirt out of place. 
We bought some bags from a woman we after- 
wards heard was suspected of being an Austrian 

spy. 

Poor old Prenk Bib Doda was in our hotel. 
He was Prince of the Miridites. As a boy he 
had been kidnapped by the Turks and haled off 
to Constantinople. Grown to a middle-aged man 
in captivity, he was restored to his tribes during 
the Young Turk Kevolution, only to be abducted 
by the Montenegrins, and to be kept practically a 
prisoner in Cettinje. We don't know if he dishked 
it, possibly not, for his walk in hf e seems to be that 
of a professional hostage, if one may say so. His 
ideals of comfort were certainly nearer to the 
cabarets in Berhn, than to the wild orgies of his 
own subjects. In fact he was civiHzed. 

A passage across the Adriatic seemed pro- 
blematic. The Transport Minister hoped we might 
catch a ship that had tried to leave Scutari three 
times, but had always been thrown on the beach 



JO SEEDY 339 

by storms. The great difficulty was crossing 
the lake of Scutari. One steamer had been 
mysteriously sunk and another damaged. He 
promised to arrange a motor for us directly he 
should be able to put his hand on a boat to take 
us across the lake. 

Jan and Jo simultaneously began to wish they 
had not eaten sardines at Rieka. The attack 
was very violent, and next day Jo stayed in bed, 
refusing the page boy's efforts to tempt her with 
lunch. 

" See," he said, bearing in a third dish, 
*' EngHsh, your i ms^kew." 

Jo pretended to be pleased, and made Jan 
eat the Irish stew after his lunch, so that the 
page boy's feehngs should not be hurt. 

Suddenly word came from the Transport 
Minister that a carriage was coming for us. We 
were to go to Pod, and pick up the others. So 
Jo stopped tying herself into knots and had to get 
up and go. We arrived at Pod to find everybody 
ill. Two days' sedentary Hfe and Turkish dehght 
were responsible for this. We suggested castor oil. 
One had just missed pleurisy — Whatmough had 
acted as nurse. 

The professor had been trpng to pump Stajitch 
as to our future plans, as he was again alone and 
rudderless. Stajitch said — 



340 



ANDKIEVITZA TO POD 



" Mr. and Mrs. Gordon alone know, and they are 
in Cettinje." 

" Now that's not kind to keep a fellow country- 
man in the dark," said the professor. 

Stajitch assured him he knew nothing ; but the 
professor walked away, murmuring that the EngHsh 
were undermining a good Serb boy's character. 

And that was the last of the professor. 




CHAPTER XXIII 

INTO ALBANIA 

We caught the mayor in the morning. He was in 
his shirt-sleeves and he said that the auto had been 
arranged for. It came and we packed in. On 
the back perched a boy who outsmelt any Serb 
we had ever found. It seemed impossible that a 
human could so smell and yet live. Suddenly 
the boy drew a packet from his pocket and the smell 
became intolerable. He unwrapped a piece of cheese 
and, gasping for breath, we watched it disappear. 
When it had gone we breathed more freely, but the 
odour still clung to the youth, and we were not 
sorry when the auto pulled up at the village of 
Plavnitza on the edge of the lake. A man, who 
said that he had been sent to help us, dragged us 
to the telephone office. He worried the instrument 
for a while and announced that the boat would be 
here in two hours. It would have come earher, 
but somehow they couldn't make steam get up. 
We expected it to come in four, and so went off to 
get something to eat. 

341 



342 INTO ALBANIA 

The lake was very liigh, coming right up to the 
road. All the low fields were covered with water 
as far as one could see. The girl at the inn was 
shuddering and shivering with malaria, and we 
give her some quinine. At last the steamer 
came. 

We had to pack into one of those cockhat boats, 
as the quay was separated from the village by half 
a mile of water. When we got to the steamer, the 
captain leaned over the side and shouted — 

" Where are the mattresses ? " 

" What mattresses ? " said the harbour-master. 

" When are you going to start ? " demanded we, 
clambering on board. 

" When I get the mattresses," said the captain. 

*' But what mattresses ? " rephed the harbour- 
master. 

" I was sent to get mattresses," said the captain, 
*' and here I wait till they come." 

This was a nuisance, nobody had said anything 
about the mattresses. 

" I shan't go till to-morrow anyhow," said the 
skipper. 

" I think we'd all better go back to Podgoritza 
and come again to-morrow," said the man in 
charge. 

" We don't move from here," said Jo, firmly. 
"If he won't go we'll sit on this boat — ^which was 



A SHELTER 343 

sent for us — and sing songs all night so that he 
shan't sleep." 

The captain refused to move without the 
mattresses and we refused to go back, so a violent 
argument ensued. We remained adamant. At 
last in despair the harbour master said that he would 
go and telephone. Night was coming on, the deck 
was chilly, so Jan went to explore. The quay was 
half under water, but by jumping from stone to 
stone one could get about, and Jan discovered an 
entrance into the stone storehouse. The door was 
boarded up, but he forced his way in, discovering 
a huge empty interior banked up well above the 
water. At one end was a platform made of boards 
on tubs. An ideal bed. He called the company 
and they arranged themselves on the planks, 
though some were dismayed at the prospect of 
getting no supper. The boards were loose and as 
each took his place they bobbed up and down. 
Miss Brindley said that it seemed Hke sleeping 
on the keyboard of a piano. We did not expect 
to see anything before morning of the harbour- 
master or of Stajitch who had gone with him ; 
but just as we were settled and beginning to snore 
and the rats were running about, Stajitch poked 
his head through the window and said that the 
boat was going immediately. We reluctantly got 
up, for we were really rather cosy, packed again 



344 INTO ALBANIA 

and hopped in the moonhght from stone to stone 
till we got to the ship — which was the same old 
Turkish gunboat on which we had travelled once 
before. The thing was then explained — a tele- 
graphic mistake. The captain had been ordered 
to fetch the strangers : but strangers and mattresses 
are only one letter different, " n " or " m," this 
letter had been transposed. 

Luckily it was a beautiful moonhght night. 
The lake was wonderfully romantic. A fat Serbian 
captain, who seemed to know Stajitch, made a 
request. He said that he had been cut off 
from his division, which was at Monastir, and 
that he was going to try and rejoin them. 
He ask us if he could join our party, as it 
would come cheaper at the hotels and he could 
get transport. 

It was pretty cold on the lake, but we wrapped 
ourselves in our blankets and said the view was 
lovely. Hunger was also gnawing within us, 
so we were glad when at last the rumbhng old 
engines halted and the steamer gave three hoots. 
We waited anxiously, and at last a large rowboat 
came sideways against the steamer. Four car- 
riages were waiting in the bazaar. A very pohte 
Montenegrin doctor welcomed us at the hotel and 
we got some much desired food. 

Bed was beginning to be a mere commonplace 



THE "MAISON PIGET" 345 

now, but we enjoyed it for all that, and slept well 
into tlie morning. 

Scutari wore its usual air of " the ballet " when 
we arose. The ladies dressed all in their best 
clothes, and with great flowing veils and wide 
skirted coats were hobbhng to church. The 
shopkeepers, with their long black and white legs 
and coloured shirts, were lounging about the low 
counters of their shops, smoking and drinking 
coffee brought them (on little swinging trays) by 
boys. 

The British consul had taken up his quarters 
at the " Maison Piget." The house was gated, 
as are all Albanian houses, but this gate was hke 
an old feudal portal. The doors were wonderfully 
carved and were opened by our old friend the 
Wolf. We had thought him to be a servant of 
Suma's, but it appeared that he belonged to the 
British Empire. 

The house was crammed full of arms: a Httle 
cannon threatened us on the stairway, swords, 
claymores, creeses, falchions, scimitars, glaives, 
dirks, and yatagans were nailed on all the walls, and 
there were muskets of every sort and size, heavy 
arquebuses from the north and gas-pipe guns and 
Arab horsemen firelocks with pohshed stocks Hke 
the handle of a corkscrew, all inlaid with gold, 
silver, and mother-of-pearl. 



346 INTO ALBANIA 

" Yes," said the consul, gazing reflectively, 
"' he had a taste for weapons. And also for old 
cookery books." 

The consul said that he thought that there was 
a boat at San Giovanni. We cheered, for our luck 
seemed to be holding, and while he went off to the 
Itahan consul we went to the governor to beg for 
transport. Neither consul nor governor was in, 
but we caught the Itahan consul in the afternoon. 
He admitted that there was a boat, but warned 
us that it was no nosegay. He said that two 
Frenchmen who had thought of taking it had sent 
him back a telegram which had quite unnerved 
him. 

" Et je n'ai jamais dit qu'elle etait une Trans* 
atlantique," he said, waving his arms. 

He said that the archbishop had told him that 
a party of Enghsh had come into the town last 
night, " en haillons," but that he had not beheved 
it possible. However, he had seen two of us in 
the street that morning, and had reahzed that it 
was true. 

We said that any boat would do. He warned 
us of the danger of submarines. 

At the consul's house we found the captain of 
the Miridites awaiting us. He was a heavy-looking 
man with European clothes and a fez. After the 
ceremonious coffee he made a set speech, saying 



THE ARCHBISHOP 347 

that he was paying his duties to the great British 
Empire, and that England was their only hope. 
The consul sat rather wishing that he wouldn't, 
and that his servant had said that he was not at 
home. In common with most of the Christian 
rulers of Albania this gentleman seemed to have 
spent most of his time in exile. 

Returning to the hotel Jan found that Jo 
had been purchasing, and he dragged her and Miss 
Brindley off to see the archbishop. The cathedral 
still carries the scars of the first bombardment. 
The archbishop, a large flat man, gave us each a 
hand as though he expected us to kiss it ; he had 
a huge archiepispocal ring and a lot of imperiosity. 
He seemed more pohtical than bishopy, though 
most of the Churchmen are ; and there is the 
tale of one who said, " I would rather people 
went to drill than to church." There were a 
lot of wealthy looking Albanians sitting round 
and being respectable. The archbishop spoke no 
French nor German, only ItaHan. But Jan, with 
the help of a lot of old musical terms, and an im- 
perfectly forgotten Spanish, managed to convey to 
him some intelhgible compHments and sentences. 
We got out at last, and his eminence accompanied 
us to the top of the stairs and gave us the difficult 
problem of bowing backwards as we went down. 
This visit was necessary, as we might have had to 



348 INTO ALBANIA 

get a " Besa " from him if we meant to go through 
to Durazzo. 

The Serbian captain who had been on the 
Turkish gunboat met us in the street. He dragged 
us into a cafe and began to order beer by the half- 
dozen. He presented Jo with a small Turkish gold 
coin, which was valued at five shilhngs, as a bribe to 
allow him to join our party. As he already had 
permission it seemed superfluous. 

Some of our party were still pretty seedy. 
Two had gone to a shop in search of castor oil. 
A very old and withered chemist, who spoke bad 
French, invited them in and asked for an account 
of their adventures, interrupting them with ex- 
plosions of " Ah poves, poves, poves, poves." 
" Ah, poves, poves, poves, poves," between every 
incident and also at the final request for the medi- 
cine. He showed them to the door and suddenly 
burst into unexpected Enghsh. 

" Good naite, vairey good. I am your poppa." 

In the hotel cafe we found two French 
aeroplanists, for four had arrived that day, saiHng 
down over the city, to the great terror of the in- 
habitants. They seemed to be afflicted with the 
same idea as '" Quel Pays." 

" Ah, monsieur et dame," said they, " quel 
pays." 

We asked them how things were. 



FEENCH AEROPLANISTS 349 

" We have just come from Prizren. The Serbs 
are in a dreadful condition. All the roads are 
covered with starving and dying people. The troops 
are eating dead horses and roots. There have been 
violent snow blizzards all over the mountains. We 
saw some of your people, too, doctors and nurses, 
they were going of! to Ipek, * dans une condition 
deplorable.' We came across the mountains ; one 
of us is lost. Awful country, nowhere to land if 
anything went wrong and one of our machines 
has not arrived. God knows what has happened 
to them. The rest of us are all coming along on 
foot. We burnt fifty motor cars yesterday, 
monsieur, that made a blaze." 

We asked them what sort of a time they had 
had in Serbia; but much of their answer is un- 
pubhshable. 

" Each time we ascended every Serbian regiment 
fired at us. Once we came down over a battahon 
and the whole lot fired volleys, and when we landed 
and stood in front of our machine holding up our 
hands," they pantomimed, *' they continued to 
fire at us. Then they came and took us prisoners, 
and were going to shoot us, although one of us had 
a military medal. A schoolmaster recognised us as 
French and rescued us. Our machine was broken ; 
but we could get no transport and had to walk 
thirty kilometres back to our base without food. 



350 INTO ALBANIA 

" Another time we were cliasing an Austrian, 
the Serbian batteries fired at us, monsieur, not at 
the enemy. Our officers had to send from the 
aerodrome to tell them to stop." 

As we were going to bed the Montenegrin doctor 
came in. 

" I am sent by the governor, monsieur," said 
he. " We do not consider it safe, this boat idea. 
Austrian submarines are everywhere, and the 
governor would feel it as a personal responsibihty 
if you were drowned. We will provide carriages 
to Alessio and thence arrange horses — only one 
day and a half on to Durazzo. Thence Essad 
Pasha will give you his motor boat and you can 
easily get to Valona." 

Our men groaned at the thought of more 
journeying. They were all thoroughly fed up with 
the road, though personally we rather hked the 
idea. We had heard that Durazzo was very 
interesting, and would have Hked to have met 
Essad, though we did not know just how his 
pohtics were trending. We decided to see the 
Itahan consul once more. 

Next day we hunted up the mayor, Mahram Beg, 
a Turk, for he also could give us a " Besa " if 
necessary. He was at last discovered, a httle 
crumpled looking man in an office. We were 
not allowed to interview him in private, but a 



THE ADRIATIC COMMISSION 351 

Montenegrin was there and all conversation had to 
pass by him Hke through an imperfect telephone. 

We gave the mayor a greeting from Colonel P 

and httle else. A very disappointing interview. 

Jan went of? to see the governor, who received 
him kindly. He said that he would arrange 
everything, but that it was difficult for him with 
the Itahan consul, as the Powers did not recognize 
the Montenegrin occupation. 

" You see, monsieur, here I am the law, and yet 
the law does not recognize me." 

The Itahan assured us that the Montenegrins 
were wrong, and that of course the boat would be 
escorted, and the danger reduced to its least possible 
amount. Just after we had left him we heard two 
things which made us jump. 

A body of Enghsh officers had landed at Medua, 
and ninety Enghsh refugees from Serbia were 
en route for Scutari. Could we not catch the 
transport and at the same time leave room for the 
others ? Suma came in, and we consulted him. 
He was doubtful if the horses could be got at 
Alessio for us. 

'' You see, it is Albania and not Montenegro," 
he repeated. 

We accordingly hunted up the doctor. He 
promised us horses for the morrow. The carriages 
had all gone to fetch the Enghsh officers. We asked 



352 INTO ALBANIA 

him about Alessio, and lie assured us that the 
telephone message had been received saying that 
they were waiting. We asked him several times 
until he grew angry and said — 

" Do you doubt my honour, then ? " 

Before we went to bed the hotel proprietor 
came to us. 

** Do you pay or the Government ? " asked he ; 
and seemed very reheved when we told him that 
we paid. The Montenegrins are neither loved nor 
trusted here. 

The next morning the horses came, but very 
late. In the crowd watching our departure was 
an old Albanian without a moustache. That was 
a strange sight ; we looked harder. It was a woman. 
She must have been one of those who had sworn 
eternal virginity, and so achieve all a man's 
privileges, even eating with them instead of getting 
the scraps left over from the meal. But the punish- 
ment of death awaited her if she failed her vow. 
Here was one, chuckhng and grinning at some of 
us in our attempts to mount the weird saddles and 
weirder steeds which had been provided. The 
Serb captain had a carriage, and another carriage 
took all our baggage, which had now sadly 
dwindled owing to the continued depredations of 
the poHce. We straggled out of the town and 
through the crowded bazaar, for it was a Saturday. 



THE ADRIATIC COMMISSION 353 

Passed the Venetian fort and the river from which 
stuck the funnel of the steamer so mysteriously 
sunk one night. We had heard that the Turkish 
gun flat which had transported us had burst her 
boilers, so now the Montenegrins had no steamers 
left. 

The road was level and better than many we had 
come over, though once or twice the carriages were 
hopelessly mired, and had to be pushed across. 
West's horse had ideas about side streets, and 
bolted down each as he came to it. 

We met the Adriatic Commission. Mr. Lamb 
and Mr. George Paget, returning after so long an 
absence, were in the first carriage. We recognized 
Mr. Paget at once, for though either of them might 
have Hked old arms, only one would have collected 
old cookery books. The rest of the commission 
came along later. They stopped us. We ex- 
pected questions about the Serbs ; but no. They 
said — 

" Can one buy underclothing in Scutari ? " 

Their baggage transport had been sunk by an 

Austrian submarine and they had only what they 

were wearing. We wished each other luck and 

went on. There was no hope of arriving at Alessio 

that night, we had started too late. As evening 

was f alhng, we came to an Albanian inn and decided 

to put up. 

2 A 



354 , INTO ALBANIA 

There was a stable full of manure on the ground 
floor, through which one had to pass, and in the 
dark one was continually shpping into the midden 
or running one's head unexpectedly into horses' 
hindquarters. Up a rickety stair were two rooms. 
The floor rocked as we walked over it, and every 
moment we expected to go through and be pre- 
cipitated into the manure below. The walls and 
floor were so loosely made that the wind blew 
through in all directions, and we called it the 
" castle in the air." We supped on chickens which 
we had brought from Scutari, and Whatmough 
and Elmer made a fire in the yard and got us cocoa. 
By this time we were all getting fed up with 
romantic surroundings, and wanted something 
more soHd. The swarthy countenances about the 
bonfire, the queer costumes in the flickering fire, 
left us unmoved. 

Sleep was impossible. The wind caught one 
in every corner, threatening lumbago. Stajitch 
fled and camped outside in one of the carriages, 
despite the rain. 

We started as early as possible — dawn. What- 
mough, Cutting, Jo and Jan lost the road, but 
were eventually rescued by a pohceman. About 
eleven one of the carriages broke down, and we 
had to repair it with tree and wire. Here the 
houses were again Hke fortresses, and everybody 



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THE MOTOR BOAT 355 

stared at us as tliougli we came from tiie 
moon. 

We reached the bank opposite Alessio — a small 
Turkish-looking village divided between a mud- 
bank and a hillside. We were about to turn over 
the bridge when news was brought that a motor- 
boat belonging to Essad was in San Giovanni 
harbour. We sent a poHceman galloping on to 
stop it, and followed as fast as our meagre horses 
would allow. We also heard that a submarine 
had been in the port the day before and had 
tried to torpedo the ships lying there — ^but had 
missed. 

We cantered on, pressing along a stony road 
which was almost level with the salt marshes on 
either side. San Giovanni appeared after about 
an hour and a half. We rode down on to the beach. 
The motor-boat was getting up anchor. We 
yelled to the skipper, but he understood no Serb ; 
so we translated through a Turk who was lounging 
about. The skipper said that he could not embark 
us there as it was Montenegrin territory, but that 
if we would go back to Alessio he would wait for 
us at the mouth of the river and take us down that 
very night. This seemed too good to be true and 
we hurried back, passing an Austrian torpedo 
which had run up on the brown sand — a present 
from yesterday's raid. We turned the others and 



356 INTO ALBANIA 

cantered ahead to get a boat ; reached the bridge 
once more and crossed into Albania. Officials ran 
from aU sides to stop us, but we ignored them, dis- 
mounted, and ran to the side of the river where 
boats were loading, overloading with passengers. 
The boatmen refused to take us if we had no passes 
from the governor. 

We hunted the governor's office up the hillside, 
panting in our haste. We burst in upon him. He 
was a dirty man in an unclean shirt and unkempt 
trousers. 

" We want to go by the motor-boat," we 
explained. 

*' Who are you ? " he asked, picking his 
teeth. 

*' We are the EngHsh about whom the governor 
of Scutari has telegraphed." 

" I don't know anything about you," he said. 
His manner was ungracious. 

" But," we said, " they assured us that they had 
telegraphed from Scutari." 

The telegraph clerk was brought, and denied 
that any message had come. 

" Anyhow," said the governor, ** the motor- 
boat is for Albanian soldiers only, and has gone 
twenty minutes ago. I can do nothing for you 
without authority from Durazzo." 

We wandered dismally back through the 



FLEAS AND RICE 357 

town and were immediately arrested by the bridge 
officials because we had not paid the toll rates. We 
paid double to get rid of them. 

We found an inn. It was the usual sort of 
building only of stone, and so dirtier than the 
others. Some travelling show seemed to have left 
its scenery in Heu of its bill, for bits of painted canvas 
did duty as partitions. 

There was a room with six beds, but one was 
reserved for an Albanian officer. We took the rest. 
We loitered about all the afternoon, and in the 
evening the Albanian officer came in. He was a 
beaky-faced, unpleasant-looking man, but he 
procured us some bread, which we sorely lacked. 
The hotel had Httle food, so we gave them our 
rice. By this time fleas had got into it, and seeming 
to Hke it had bred in quantities. Still as we had 
nothing else it had to be cooked, and we picked out 
the boiled fleas as well as we were able. The 
Serbian captain started drinking with the Albanian, 
and soon both were well over the edge of sobriety. 

They came up long after we had turned in, fell 
over Cutting, who cursed them without stint, and 
tumbled on to the beds which we had left for them. 
The Albanian made some remarks about the ladies, 
which from the tone were insults; but we were 
unable to chastize him, or we should all have been 
put into prison. 



358 



INTO ALBANIA 



They snored and coughed all night, and spat 
about in the dark. Those who were sleeping near 
cowered beneath the mackintosh sheets and prayed 
for luck. But in the morning we found that they 
had been spitting on the wall. 




CHAPTER XXIV 

" ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS " 

The Mayor of Alessio had said that there were lots 
of horses, if we had Essad's permission ; but the 
Turkish captain said that there were none, only at 
San Giovanni were they to be found. It was pelting 
with rain, but Blease and we decided to walk over 
to explore for ourselves. Jan first wrote a very 
stiff letter to the Governor of Scutari about the 
non-arrival of the telegram, and off we went, having 
borrowed oilskins and sou'westers. The Serb 
captain insisted on coming with us. 

In half an hour the storm had made the stony 
road into a series of deep ponds which nearly 
joined each other, so Jo tucked her now ragged 
skirt into a bright woven Serbian belt and walked 
along with the water streaming from coat to boots. 
It became rather a pleasure to splash through ten- 
inch deep puddles, knowing that one could not 
possibly get any wetter, and this joy was intensified 
by the knowledge that the Serbian captain was 
being soaked and didn't hke it. 

359 



360 "ONE MOKE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

San Giovanni consists of a series of huts, each 
hke Burns' birthplace, grouped on the shelving side 
of a stony chff. The bay itself is semi-circular, 
with a long cape jutting out to the south, the 
extremity of which almost always is floating in 
the air, owing to the mirage. In the bay were two 
rusty steamers — one the Benedetto, which had been 
promised to us by the Itahan governor — several 
old wooden sailers, and a lot of smalhsh fishing 
smacks very brightly painted and with raised poop 
and prow. A group of Albanians were toihng at 
sacks which cumbered the Httle wooden jetty. 

We immediately hunted out Captain Fabiano, 
the Itahan commander of the wireless telegraph, 
and found him in a httle house at the northern 
horn of the bay. He received us gaily. He spoke 
an excellent French, so that the Serbian captain 
could not butt in and interfere, as was his habit. 
Fabiano said that it would take a long time to get 
a wire to Brindisi, where we had heard were several 
ships of the Enghsh fleet, very bored and craving 
for something to do ; we had hoped to get into 
communication with them. Then Jan had a brain 
wave. 

" Is not the wind good for Durazzo ? " asked he. 

" Splendid," said Fabiano, " and no submarines 
to-day." 

" Could we not get a fishing boat ? " 



THE TRANSPORT 361 

" I will send and see." 

While we were waiting he told us that he was 
sheltering the crew of the ship which had been 
transporting the Enghsh mission's Idt. The captain 
of the Httle transport had set fire to the benzine 
which his boat was carrying, which act so enraged 
the submarine captain that he fired three torpedoes 
into her, and afterwards mounted his conning 
tower and fired ten full cHps from his revolver at 
the swimming men. Luckily revolver shooting 
requires much practice. The men had clung to 
an overturned boat and had all eventually reached 
shore, after which they had to march a day and 
a half without boots or food, often fording 
rivers which came to their waists. Fabiano said 
that he was going to send them home on the 
Benedetto. 

The captain of the port sent back word that we 
could have a boat immediately — much to Fabiano's 
surprise. But most of the party were at Alessio. 
We hurried off to see the captain of the port. 
Explanations, certainly when the luggage came ; 
and off went Jan with a guide to get pack ponies. 
HaKway back to Alessio was the stable, but the 
steeds were not ready, so Jan was ushered up into 
a top room where was a huge fire, over which an 
Albanian was stewing a cormorant with all its 
feathers on. There were other Albanians and a 



362 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS'' 

very old Montenegrin soldier. He admired every- 
thing' English, even Jan's tobacco which he had 
bought in Pod. 

We got to Alessio and packed everything 
hurriedly, paid the bill, tipped an old soldier two 
dinars, and off. As we passed over the bridge the 
clerk came running behind us. We had not paid 
the bridge fees, he said. 

" How much ? " asked Jan. 

He hesitated. 

" Two dinars," said he. He had been talking 
to the soldier. 

Meanwhile Jo and Blease had found refuge in the 
house of the miHtary commandant. It was a hovel 
Hke all the houses, but they were given a huge log 
fire which was built on the mud floor. Their 
stockings were soon hanging on a Hne above the 
blaze, and their shins were scorching, while they 
drank wonderful Hqueur which was hospitably 
poured out by the beautiful old host. 

Turkish coffee was prepared for them by a 
soldier in a bursting French fireman's uniform. 

The captain's fire was the rendezvous of the 
village. Amiable and picturesque people came in 
and talked about the unhealthiness of the place, 
the relative bravery of nations with a special 
reference to the courage of Montenegrins, and about 
the submarine raid and of how the Austrian captain 



EXCUSES 363 

had repeatedly fired Ms revolver at the sailors of 
the boat he had sunk while they were swimming 
in the water. Their eyes were streaming, not with 
emotion, but because in Montenegro one has no 
chimneys. 

At dusk the rest of us arrived. The port captain 
said " To-morrow," so we chmbed up to the inn, 
examined the stores, a few tins of tunny, mackerel, 
and milk, and the thirteen made the best of the 
bar-room floor for the night, booted and ready in 
case a transport for the Benedetto should arrive. 

In the morning the captain said we could have 
the boat that night, and in the evening he said we 
could have it in the morning. His excuse was that 
the Borra was blowing its hardest, and no sailor 
could be found to venture out; but Fabiano said 
that this was not true. 

The real reason was the sleek Austrian torpedo 
lying on the beach, for the Dulcinos are famed on 
the Adriatic coast because of their timidity. 

Time passed drearily. The only amusement 
we had was to go and annoy the captain of the 
port by asking when we could have a boat. The 
wind was too cold for constitutionals, and we 
piled on all our clothes and sat on our knapsacks in 
the bar-room — for there was no fire — and talked 
wistfully of sausages, Yorkshire Rehsh and under- 
done beefsteaks. 



364 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

We had much time for meditation, and pon- 
dered over the downfall of Serbia. Why had 
the Serbian Government so resolutely refused 
to make any territorial concessions to Bulgaria, 
when it was obvious that the entry of Bulgaria 
into the conflict meant the ruin of Serbia ? Why 
had they permitted the Austrians to build their 
big gun emplacements on the Danube without 
interruption ? Why had they not withdrawn to 
the hills and then built proper defences with barbed 
wire entanglements and labyrinths ? for properly 
entrenched they might have defied the Austro- 
German forces for months. Some day, perhaps, 
these questions may have to be answered. 

One day a party came in. They had passed 
through Vrntze much later than we, and we heard 
that Dr. Berry and an assistant had been seen 
hurriedly naihng boards on to the slaughter-house 
roof. They, too, had come by the Novi Bazar 
route. They said that the other routes were deep 
in snow and that the sufferings of the army were 
terrible. That a great portion had been hemmed 
in at Prizren, and that the Bulgars had 
shelled the passes so that they could not escape. 
They themselves had escaped the advancing 
Austrians by the skin of their teeth owing to 
good horses. 

The snow came down, driving along the valleys 




UNLOADING THE " BENEDETTO," SAN GIOVANNI DI MEDTJA. 



THE WIRELESS 365 

and whitening all the hills; the cold grew more 
intense, and the desire for EngHsh beefsteaks 
became an obsession : one talked of httle else — or 
of Christmas. Food was becoming scarce. The 
tinned mackerel was diminishing ; some days we 
had no bread. We walked once as far as Fabiano's 
wireless. The men were hving in a shed made of 
wattle, and the Borra whistled through the cracks. 
There was a stove round which we sat while the 
men gave us tea ; but the warmth it induced in 
one's face only intensified the feehng of cold on 
the back. Outside in the snow was a long-distance 
telescope, and peering through one could see the 
conning tower of the Austrian submarine, a faint 
hump on the sea by the southernmost point. As 
we returned to the cold hotel we passed the Monte- 
negrin batteries : cannon too small to be of any use 
and the gunners of which were all so ill that they 
could not handle them. 

Two Frenchmen had been in San Giovanni for 
ten days, and their anxiety to go was up to fever 
point. They took it in turns to stand " pour 
observer," wrapped up to their noses, in a doorway, 
watching the Benedetto in case she should give them 
the shp. We called them Tweedledum and 
Tweedledee. 

One night somebody rushed up to their room. 
Booted, they jumped out of bed, and ran about 



366 ''ONE MOEE RIBBEE TO CROSS" 

overhead. We thirteen scrambled up and intercepted 
them between the stairs and the door. " Pour 
observer, steam-funnel," they shouted, and dis- 
appeared into the night, followed by their valet 
with two hold-alls. They soon came back, very 
cold, and announced that steam had been seen 
issuing from the Benedetto's funnel. They had 
rushed to it in an open boat, and had learnt that 
the Benedetto was ordered to be in readiness. She 
fumed quietly for three days, and then was com- 
mandeered by the Serbian Government. 

One day we saw a French aeroplane, an old 
friend of ours. Immediately every one working 
in the port tore up hill, men jumped off the big 
boats into httle ones and rowed hke a cinemato- 
graph turned double speed. 

The commandant roared reassuringly from his 
attic window, and an officer tried to beat the men 
back. Seeing us convulsed with laughter, they 
turned sheepishly ; but the httle boats wagged on, 
people jumping into the water as they neared shore. 

" Come and sit round my fire," said the com- 
mandant. So we again imbibed coffee and dis- 
cussed courage. It was explained to us that none 
of the men in the boats were Montenegrins, and 
we poHtely agreed. 

Hearing that a Red Cross party was in the village 
people came and asked for medical aid. We 



THE BAEEACKS 367 

explained that we had no doctors, but they begged 
us to come and see the invahds. 

Doctors and chemists were unobtainable, and 
soldiers were dying every day. 

We had no hesitation in tackhng the Monte- 
negrin soldiers, for at least we could do no harm, 
considering that our whole pharmacopoeia was a 
little boracic, some bismuth capsules, Epsom salts, 
quinine, iodine, and one of the party owned a bottle 
of some patent unknown stuff, against fever and 
many other ailments. 

We were first taken to the barracks in the 
evening, scrambhng up a stony hill. The building 
looked hke the disreputable ruins of somebody's 
" Folly." Half the roof was off, and the walls 
were full of holes. We stumbled up some black 
steps and entered a huge dark barn with four 
log fires down the centre of the room. 

Eound these were huddled crowds of men. 
They pulled some rough planks out of a hole in 
the wall to let in the sunset hght, and the icy Borra 
rushed in, playing with the smoke and setting the 
men to coughing. Here and there on the ground 
were long mounds, covered completely with rough 
hand-woven rugs. These were the invahds, who 
moaned as the rugs were pulled off their faces. A 
great many had malaria ; others had, as far as we 
could see, very bad pleurisy ; and one old Albanian 



368 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

with rattling breath was huddled up in a far 
corner, too miserable to speak. 

Whatmough sent for a dribble of camphorated 
oil he had stored in his knapsack, " to cheer them 
up," said he, and rubbed everybody who had pain 
and a cough. 

" Give them hot drinks," said Jo, in a large 

way. "Milk or " 

" Milk ! There is no milk in Medua," said the 
sergeant. 

" No tinned milk — eggs to be bought 1 " 
" Nothing, no meat ; we have not even enough 
bread, and that is all we get." 

Very depressed, we sent them the remains of 
our Bovril and some tins of milk from the tiny 
hotel store, and bought the last three eggs in the 
place. 

" Can't you send for more ? " we asked. 
" The hens are five hours away," said the 
proprietor, and didn't see why he should send for 
eggs even if we paid heavily for them. He had 
malaria- — and nothing mattered. 

We saw our patients daily, and the ones who 
weren't going to die got a httle better, so this made 
our reputation. People poured in from the hills 
around, and we were much embarrassed. Our 
white-hpped waiter confided to each member of 
the party that he had a lump on his knee. 



THE BET 369 

Every one became very busy and put off looking 
at it. We discussed it. 

What could a lump on the knee be which did 
not make a busy waiter hmp ? And what on earth 
could we do for him when he wouldn't rest, and we 
were reduced to boracic powder and bismuth 
capsules ? We gave him a tube of quinine, though, 
for his next attack of malaria. 

The longer we rested in San Giovanni the more 
hopeless seemed the chance of getting away from 
it. The Serbian Government was close on our heels, 
and once they caught us up, there would be httle 
left for us. That evening we were sitting with the 
Frenchmen, it was Monday, They, too, were 
depressed, and at last Tweedledum said — 

" We shall never reach Paris, we shall be here 
for ever and ever." 

" Oh," said Jan, rashly, " I think we ought to 
be home in a week." 

Dum put on the superior French air, which is 
aggravating even in a nice man. 

" Vous croyez ? " he said. 

" I'll bet on it," said Jan. 

" A dinner," answered Dum. 

" Good," said Jan. 

This lent a new interest to Hfe. 

The very next day the Frenchmen told us that 

the Serb Government had arrived at Scutari ; the 

2 B 



370 "ONE MOKE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

Montenegrin Governor had telegraphed to com- 
mandeer and keep back the Benedetto. We had 
been forgotten, and the French boat was to leave 
at dawn under escort. 

She had been strictly forbidden by her owners 
to take passengers, but the Frenchmen had arranged 
through their minister to go by that boat if she 
left the first. 

Telegraphic communication with the Enghsh 
minister at Cettinje was practically impossible ; 
the only thing was to appeal to the captain. First 
we rushed up the hill, and interviewed Captain 
Fabiano, who had already made various efforts to 
get us off. He promised to try and influence the 
French captain. 

Then we flung ourselves into a boat and made 
for the httle steamer. People were looking at 
something with opera glasses, and our boatmen 
took fright and wanted to row straight for land. 
Jan cursed them so much, however, that they 
began to fear us more than imaginary submarines 
or aeroplanes, and brought us alongside the vessel. 
The captain was ashore, taking a walk; the 
crew very sympathetically made contradictory 
suggestions as to his whereabouts. 

At last we caught him. He was nice, but had 
strict orders, he said, to take no one. 

" But, monsieur," we said, "if we were 



A FEENCHMAN'S ESTIMATE 371 

swimming in the sea, or cast ofi on a desert island, 
you would rescue us." 

He admitted it. 

" Well, what is the difference ? Here we cannot 
get away ; the food is growing less and less." 

He objected that he had no boats, and no Hfe- 
saving apparatus. 

" That is nothing. We must get away from 
here. We will give you a paper saying that it is 
on our own responsibility. In this country one 
cannot telegraph, the telegrams never arrive. 
You know the Balkans." 

He smiled. 

" Oui, oui, c'est un pays ou le Bon Dieu n'a pas 
passe, ou au moins il a peut-etre passe en aero- 
plane." 

At last he agreed to take us if we could get a 
letter from Fabiano, and so take the responsibihty 
from his shoulders. This we got. Fabiano said 
" Au revoir, bon voyage " for the fifth time, and at 
dawn we got a call, and quitted the bar-room floor 
for ever. Fabiano wished us "' bon voyage " for 
the sixth time in the chilly dawn, and we embarked. 

The mate, a httle round man, greeted us, and 
in the moments when they were not rushing about 
with ropes and chains the cook explained the 
Austrian submarine attack. 

" You see, monsieur et dame," said he, " they 



372 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

came in over there. The Benedetto was lying 
outside of that sandbank, and that is the torpedo 
which is lying on the beach. The one aimed at 
us came straight, one could see the whorls of the 
water coming straight at us, but it just tipped the 
sandbank and dived underneath our keel. It 
stuck in the mud then, and the water boiled over 
it for a long while." 

The mate cut one of the anchors because they 
were afraid of fouHng the sunken torpedo, and we 
steamed slowly out from the shelter of the sand- 
bank. 

No escort was visible, and soon the sailors 
began to look anxious. They scanned the horizon 
anxiously. At last one cried, " There she is.'* 
Far away against the western dawn could be seen 
a thin needle mark of smoke. In half an hour we 
were quite close, an ItaHan destroyer was convoying 
a small steamer. The destroyer swung round 
under our stern, while the steamer, its funnels 
set back, raced for San Giovanni looking 
hke a frightened puppy tearing towards home. 
The grey warship surged past us, and out 
towards the horizon once more, our captain 
shouting to them that he could get to Brindisi by 
midnight. Far away on the sky-hne could be seen 
the three funnels of a cruiser. 

We breakfasted on tinned mackerel, an unlucky 



THE LAST "RIBBER" 373 

dish. The Harmonie, empty of cargo, was like an 
eggshell in the water. She bounced and rolled and 
bounded from wave to wave, half of the time her 
screw out of the water. The breakfast did not 
nourish many. Far on the horizon could be 
seen the destroyer and the cruiser sweeping in 
gigantic circles. 

Half a kilometre away a periscope suddenly 
appeared, then the submarine dived, rose once 
more, showing the rounded conning tower, dived, 
rose again, Hke a porpoise at play. 

" See," cried the sailors, " how well are we 
guarded. Outermost the cruiser, then the destroyer, 
and innermost the submarine." The cruiser and 
destroyer took big sweeps once more and steamed 
off behind us towards Cattaro. 

Our boat rolled its way from dawn to dusk. 
We sought refuge in the coal hole, some lay down 
in the httle officers' cabin. After dark the sea grew 
more rough, and splashing over the deck drove even 
the most ill to find shelter. Whatmough staggered 
to the companion, tripped over something, and fell 
the length of the stair accompanied by a hard object 
which hit him and made hissing sounds Hke a 
bicycle pump. He was too seasick to investigate, 
but next morning found the ship's tortoise lying on 
its back and feebly waving its feet and head. 

Then the engines slowly ceased, and there was 

2b 2 



374 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS" 

silence. What had happened ? The steamer gave 
four timid hoots. The people in the cabin lay in 
the darkness wondering if they had broken down, 
for it was not nearly midnight. At last the mate 
came in. 

" Why, you're all in the dark," he said. 

Some one asked, " When shall we get to 
Brindisi?" 

" We're there," said the mate. 

The steamer rocked on the sea, waiting for an 
escort through the mine field, Hghts were sparkhng 
in the distance, and now and then flashhghts cut 
the dark blue of the sky. Great black ships surged 
by in the gloom, ships with insistent queries as to 
who we were and whence we came. 

At last an escort came : we were berthed and lay 
about waiting for the dawn. 

Long after day came the doctor, who passed 
us, and we stepped ashore saying- — 

*' Thank God we are back in Europe once again." 

Two days later San Giovanni was bombarded 
by an Austrian cruiser, and all the shipping was 
sunk, Benedetto and all. 

We were heartily welcomed in Brindisi by the 
Enghsh colony, and at the consul's office learned 
that the submarine was an Austrian, and that the 
cruiser had made the sweep to chase it away. Jo, 
Miss Brindley, and Jan went to Rome, where they 



TO HOME 



376 



were feasted by more English, while at Milan — 
where the rest of the party spent the night — a 
whole theatre stood and cheered them when they 
came in. 

Jan won his bet by four minutes. 




:^. 



XJzhi 




Igoritza"' 
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London : Smrth, Elder, &, C 



Stanfo'Jk Gi:(jg}Ji:itah!,Undon 



INDEX 



Albania, 109, 154, 185 
Alessio, 351, 355-359, 362 
Andrievitza, 126, 128, 133, 326 

Belgrade, 228, 229 

Berane, 114, 291, 294, 295, 326 

Brindisi, 360, 374 

Cattabo, 94, 156 

Cettinje, 48, 64, 78, 85, 91, 92, 96, 

121, 123, 139, 205, 297, 336, 

337 
Chabatz, 229 
Chainitza, 42, 49, 52, 53, 66 

Daiolograd, 87 

Dechani, 147, 152, 157, 158, 190 

Dormitor Mountains, 64, 74, 75 

Dreina, 57 

Durazzo, 350, 356, 360 

Ebab River, 250, 267, 268 

goeazhda, 57, 59 
Gotch, 236 
Gussigne, 122 

Ipek, 114, 122, 124, 132, 134, 
143, 144, 145, 154, 175, 294, 
330 

Jabliak, 64, 70, 74 
Jabooka, 129, 131, 330, 331 
Jakovitza, 114 



KOLASHIN, 132 

Kossovo, 176, 178 

Krag, Kragujevatz, 198, 209, 

212, 213, 223, 224, 238, 243, 

252, 262, 280, 330 
Kralievo, 213, 241, 242, 262, 282 
Krusevatz, 7, 24, 25, 194, 196, 

237, 241 

Lapovo, 259 

Lieva Rieka, 134, 327, 334 

Lim River, 36 

MACEDONLi, 154, 184, 185 

Metalka, 51 

Mitrovitza, 155, 175, 176, 255, 

261, 262, 275, 280, 288, 291, 

292, 298 
Morava, 1 

Negbina, 35 

Nickshitch, 66, 80, 83 

Nish, 10-14, 20, 21, 40, 190, 235, 

236, 275, 279 
Novi Bazar, 68, 230, 239, 262, 

275, 280, 284, 288, 292, 294 
Novi Varosh, 33, 35, 36 

Obrenovatz, 228 

Plavnitza, 107, 116, 341 
Plevlie, 38, 41, 43, 62, 72, 77, 80, 

114, 165, 171, 294 
Plav, 122 



378 



INDEX 



Pod, Podgoritza, 64, 85, 88, 89, 
90, 101, 124, 125, 127, 189, 
326, 328, 335, 339 

Posheravatz, 229 

Prepolji, 36, 37, 64 

Prizren, 349 

Rashka, 257, 259, 265, 275, 279, 

300, 308 
Rieka, 99, 124 
Rudnik, 172, 223 

Salonika, 15-17, 20, 44, 46, 

190, 193 
San Giovanni di Medua, 346, 351, 

355, 360 
Sanjak, 87, 96, 114, 154, 294 
Scutari, 76, 84, 92, 94, 97, 101, 

105, 107, 108, 110, 112, 113, 

114, 122, 147, 217, 275, 326, 

344 
Shavnik, 76, 84 
Shar Dagh, 180 
Sofia, 64 
Studenitza, 249, 278 



Tara, 68 

Tarabosch, 103 

Trstemick, 25 

Tutigne, 295, 299, 303, 304 

UsKtJB, 14, 18, 180, 182, 183, 
184, 186, 225, 238, 275, 288, 
291 

Uzhitze, 1, 3, 27, 28, 38, 40, 48, 

277 

Valievo, 295 

Vela, 236 

Velika, 137 

Virbazar, 117 

Voinik Mountains, 75 

Vranje, 235, 236 

Vrbitza, 319 

Vmjatchka Banja, Vmtze, 2, 18, 

26, 27, 190, 194, 196, 198, 227, 

245, 261 

Zaichab, 13, 236 
Zlatibor, 31, 33 



THE END 



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